Red Earth
by Wanderer of the Roads
Summary: Red. His blood on the red earth. He thought he would never open his eyes again... until he did. Rated for language.
1. Archer

_Chapter 1: Archer_

Blond hair, blue eyes, and a goatee.

She actually had to pull her sunglasses down to take a good, long look.

He must be the first decent-looking man she had seen in- well, since she got here, which was almost six days ago.

Pushing her shades up again, she leant back in her chair and smiled into her cocktail glass.

She had no idea what was keeping her here, actually. There was nothing to do, there was nothing to see, but when the thought of leaving crossed her mind punctually every day at lunch time, she never really got around to punching in the ridiculously long string of digits that would connect her to her private jet.

Yes, it must be the numbers.

Or maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the noise, the chaos, the thick smoke of exhaust fumes and dust and cigarettes, the broken windows, the soldiers marching on the streets, the women with enormous pots on their heads- the _people_.

Oh yes, definitely the people. They treated her with a sort of suspicious fascination that she found most amusing. But they were lovely people; and in a strange, twisted way, Sierra Leone was a lovely place. Everywhere you go someone was being robbed, or stabbed to death, or kidnapped- the city was literally falling apart. But here she was, still alive and kicking none too badly. Not at all.

"Alex," a voice sing-sang teasingly next to her.

She rolled her eyes. Well, considering the fact that she had a bodyguard, it was no surprise that she was still alive.

"Go away, Dom," she said flatly.

Dominic grinned. "So, which fortunate man is lucky enough to have caught your undivided attention?"

She grinned back and drained the rest of her cocktail. "See for yourself."

Sitting up in his chair, Dominic whipped his sunglasses off and swept his green eyes across the rather quiet pub sitting on a stretch of white sand. Alexis smiled and watched him scour the premise- it did not take him too long to discover her new target.

"He's old enough to be your father," he commented dryly.

She snorted. "He doesn't look old. He's just more mature than guys like you."

"But you're younger than me."

"Whatever," she shrugged, waving that comment aside. She watched him stop at the bar, exchanging words with the bartender. "Shall I pounce?"

"Ooooh, I think someone else has cast her lasso first."

Alexis looked up sharply and, indeed, she caught sight of a white face framed by dark brown hair, sitting on the other side of the bar.

"Fuck it," swore Alex tonelessly, lighting a cigarette.

Dominic considered the woman. "At least she looks more or less his age."

She angrily took a drag from her smoke. "Oh screw you. You can't even see her properly from this distance. And _how_ old can he be? Thirty-two max, I tell you. So what does that make? A nine-year difference. At most."

"Wow, you're good at sums, aren't you?"

He yelped when she kicked him in the shin. "Shut up. You're just jealous that he's sexier than you are."

"Sexy my ass," retorted Dom disdainfully. "He's fat."

"He's fat? If he's fat, you're beyond obese," retortede Alex, her lips twisting in contempt as she watched the man sidling up close and personal to the woman. "Man, that _body_-"

"Women," he muttered.

"Homos," she shot back and smiled smugly at his scowl. "What? I love homos, they listen and they don't bitch behind your back."

Dominic shook his head with a sigh as Alexis untangled her legs and slipped her feet into her flipflops, while snubbing her cigarette out on the table in one smooth motion. "I'm giving it a shot. Watch the pro." She tossed him a grin and grabbed his half-empty beer bottle before setting off across the sand towards the bar.

It was a beautiful day. The afternoon sun was hot on her skin, the warm, fine sand shifted between her toes, and scorching winds rippled her knotted hair. The wonderful smell of grilling _braaied boerewors_ filled her nose as she made it onto the wooden floor of the main deck, where three mini televisions were broadcasting Clinton's apology for his sex scandal. With a snort, she rolled her eyes and shook her hair out of her face when she got near enough to hear his voice, animated, heavily accented. It sounded very African, despite the fact that he was white.

At that moment, her right foot stepped on something slippery, and with all the gracelessness of a flailing person, she shrieked, sprawled forwards and crashed - purely incidentally- into the man she had been spying on for the past fifteen minutes.

"Whoa! Miss, you alright, huh?"

Clinging onto the bar, she winced. "Oh gosh, I am _really_ sorry." She was very much aware of his hands gripping upper arms. "It's got to be those fucking caps. Hey you!" she all but yelled at the bartender, who was not doing a good job of hiding his snicker. "Can't you make sure your customers don't litter? I almost broke my leg!"

"Sorry, miss. Shit happens!" chuckled the bartender. "A Cosmopolitan on the house?"

"Least you could do," muttered Alexis.

The man chuckled. "Those shoes aren't exactly safe, huh?"

Alexis took a deep breath and looked up into his eyes, then made a show of frowning at her Havianas and her black toe nails. "I suppose they aren't," she smiled, putting Dom's bottle on the bar counter to offer him her right hand. "Alexis Devereaux."

With a lopsided grin, he shook it. "Danny Archer. So, are you French, Miss Devereuax?"

"A quarter, _oui_," replied Alex, leaning on the bar. "But I'm also German, American, Chinese, Spanish and Russian."

Danny Archer blew a raspberry, white smoke billowing out between his lips. "Impressive, you're quite a mix I can see. So you've been all over the place, huh?"

"I've been mostly been stuck at a British Catholic all-girls' boarding school most of my life, so not really," she said and pulled a face. "Then I went to the States for university."

"Really?" He turned around and gestured to the woman. "You should meet Maddy Bowen. She's from America. Maddy, this is Alexis Devereaux."

"Oh, hello," Alexis shook her hand and forced herself to smile sweetly. Dom was right- she _did_ look more or less his age. "_So _nice to meet you. I went to law school in the States until a couple of months ago."

"Really? Where did you go?" asked Maddy politely, reaching up to tuck a stray bit of hair behind an ear.

"Harvard," replied Alexis impassively, then waved her hand dismissively and grabbed the icy cold cocktail the bartender left for her on the bar. "But I left a couple of months into my third year. It bored me to death."

Danny's eyebrows shot up. "A Harvard law dropout, huh? So what you're doin' now? Traveling the world?"

She tilted her head to one side and grinned. "Kind of."

Maddy's eyes widened. "Alone? A young lady like you?"

"I have a bodyguard," she pointed at Dom, who was obviously watching them. "He's Dominic, he's my best friend."

"Where's he from? Yale?"

She half-opened her mouth in genuine surprise. "How did you guess?"

He took a swig of his beer and grinned. "Birds of a feather flock together, I guess."

Alexis took a long look at him, making him chuckle and ask, "What are you staring at, huh?"

"I can't quite figure out where you're from," she replied honestly. "You have a strange accent, Mr Archer."

"He's from _Rhodesia_," said Maddy with a smile, giving Danny a highly amused look.

Alex furrowed her brow. "Rhodesia? Where's that?"

"Apparently," said Danny, staring back at the woman. "It's called Zimbabwe now."

"Where's Zimbabwe?"

"You don't know where Zimbabwe is?" asked Maddy, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, is it that place in Eastern Europe?"

The two exchanged looks, then more or less burst into laughter.

Alexis was ashamed to feel heat creeping up her neck. "Well, I'm not a geographer, am I?" she said sharply.

Danny laughed and she gave him an angry glare. "What are _you_ laughing at?"

He sobered and asked tsked, "Are you _sure_ you were studying at Harvard?" Here he succumbed to chuckles. "Eastern Europe, ha!"

Alex narrowed her eyes at him and hissed. "Fuck _you_."

He actually looked surprised at her flare-up, and held his hands up in the air mockingly. "Whoa, whoa, it was a joke, huh?"

"Oh yeah? It was a joke,_ huh_?" she repeated sarcastically. "What a sense of _humour_ you have, Mr Archer."

He snorted. "Christ, how sensitive can you get?"

"Oh you've seen _nothing_ yet," declared Alex, downing a mouthful of her cocktail then splashed the rest of it into his face. "Screw you, Mr Archer."

She marched backed to the table where Dom was gleefully grinning at her outburst, and practically dragged his ass all the way back to where their chauffeur was waiting for them.

Danny Archer.

She would remember that name.

* * *

Edited: 26 May 2012


	2. Kailahun

_Chapter 2: Kailahun_

"What the hell are you doing?"

Alex pushed her sunglasses down her nose to give Dominic a pointed look. "What does it look like I'm doing, pray tell, almighty embodiment of timeless wisdom?"

He sat down next to her and peered suspiciously at her notebook. "Are you- _writing_?"

"I said I came here to look for inspiration for my book."

Dominic snorted.

"That's not very nice," deadpanned Alex.

"Uh, since when have you wanted to be an author?"

"Since last month," she all but snapped. "Now leave me alone will you? You've disrupted my flow of thought, you idiot."

But he stayed, ordered a lemonade from a waitor walking past, and asked, "So, what is your book about?"

Alex looked up from her notepad and smiled wryly. "It's about a man who walked into a bar."

"I know who that is," Dom smartly. "I know you're thinking about _that_ man."

"Come on, Dom. I'm not _that_ desperate," she replied with a roll of her eyes.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, it's pretty obvious that you are, since you've actually started writing a bloody _book _about him."

"Dom?"

"Yeah?"

"Go screw yourself, will you?"

He grinned and interlaced his fingers behind his head then tilted his face backwards to the sun.

"Whatever makes you happy, your highness."

* * *

"What are you still doing here, miss?"

"Thought I'd score another free cocktail," she winked, slipping the bartender a couple of notes. "I'll have Sex on the Beach, if you please."

He laughed, and shook his head amusedly. "Anytime, miss, anytime."

The little pub was throbbing with a heavy, seductive beat, and throngs of people were moving to the rhythm under the red tents. Alexis casually looked around the bar, and saw quite a few Caucasians among the native party-goers.

"If you're looking for him, he's not here yet."

Her eyes snapped up to meet the bartender's, and she grinned. "Who _are_ you talking about?"

"Mr Archer," he replied. "I know you're looking for him."

"Whatever _do_ you mean! I came to see you, my old friend," said Alexis jokingly.

The bartender shook his head again and slid her glass to her. "You should be gone by now, miss, it's dangerous to stay. Don't you know the RUF is coming?"

"The rebels? Yeah, heard it on the news," she answered, taking a sip. "But hey, nobody really seems to worry, yeah? Look at your crowd tonight."

Alexis fancied she saw a touch of sadness in the bartender's eyes. "Not for long, miss, not for long."

He turned away to take another customer's order, but returned and said quietly, "The RUF will be here by tomorrow, they are most likely to attack by midday. Get a car and get out of the city before midday, huh?"

Alexis looked at him, sobering up at his tone. "You're serious, aren't you?"

The bartender sighed, then reached into a pocket at the back of his trousers and pulled something out. It was wrapped in a checkered handkerchief. He slid it across the bar and pressed it into her hand.

He patted her hand. "Protect yourself, huh? T.I.A."

She peered under the cloth and saw a glimmer of black metal. "T.I.A.?"

"This, is, Africa. Not your Hollywood movie, miss."

She slipped the pistol into her purse, and smiled, "Thanks. Take care, yeah?"

He nodded and gave her a toothy grin. "Take care, miss."

* * *

"Alex, the driver is here."

"I'm coming," she said, not looking up from the bill she was signing with a cheap ball pen, not quite what you would expect from the big fancy hotel she had stayed in for the past week. "Here, thanks."

"Thank you, miss, we hope to serve you again," said the receptionist with a warm smile.

She nodded at the doorman and slipped her sunglasses on. It was hard to believe that the city was on the brim of civil war- it was such a beautiful day.

She sighed and started to walk towards Dom, who was helping the porter load her suitcases onto a sturdy car when she fancied she saw a flash of sandy blond hair.

"Mr Archer?"

He turned around, and though she could not see his eyes behind the dark shades, she could tell he was less than pleasantly surprised to see her.

"You do remember who I am, don't you?" she asked, faking a playful tone.

Jamming his hands into his cargo pants' pockets, he said with a tense undertone, "Miss Devereaux, how could I forget?"

"What are you doing here? You don't strike me as the type who holidays in five-star hotels," she commented lightly.

He gave her a tight smile but did not answer her question. "I'm guessing the car with the big suitcases is yours?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm leaving this place."

"Are you headed for the airport?"

"That's the plan."

He shook his head, took one hand out of his pocket and waved it around, as if she just said the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

"Now, you listen, Miss Devereaux," he said in a low voice, stepping close. "You do _not_ go to the airport, understand? That will be the first thing the RUF takes over, and you will be dead before you get your pretty little feet onto your private jet."

She folded her arms defiantly on her chest and said, "Why should I believe you?"

He snorted and put his hands up defensively. "Now, of course you don't have to. But, assuming that you'd rather live than have a bullet lodged in your heart, then you'd better listen to me, lady. I've been in this country since before you were born, and that's saying something, understand?"

Alexis took off her sunglasses and looked at him seriously. "Where should I go?"

"Head for Kailahun. There's a military airstrip there, you should be able to get your private jet to land there, but it might take a few days."

"How exactly do I get there?" He had started moving towards the pavilion, and she followed.

"You remember Maddy?" he asked, and reluctantly she nodded. "She mentioned a press convoy headed to Kono. If you get to the American Consolute by noon you should catch one of their buses." He then looked at the car whose trunk sunk well below the front due to the weight of her luggage. "But you'll have to lose your suitcases if you want to get there alive."

Alexis gaped at him. "Are you serious? They're Chanel, for Christ's sake. I can't just leave them behind."

Archer started to walk back into the hotel, and threw over his shoulder with a sort of disgusted amusement. "You're a spoiled bitch, you know that, Miss Devereaux?"

"Is that the best you can come up with, Mr Archer?" she grinned.

He just shook his head with a kind of finality but did not look back.

She watched his back for a moment, then put her sunglasses back into place and headed down to the car, where Dom was waiting with a curious look on his face. She just smiled and opened the car trunk. She had some unpacking to do before noon.

* * *

"How fucking long does it take to get to Kailahun?"

Dom threw her an annoyed glance and had to shout to make himself heard over the absurdly loud noise their little truck was making beneath them. "A few days. We're going to a relief camp in Port Loki first. Another bus will pick us up maybe one or two days later."

"Fabulous. At least food is a guarantee," she muttered sardonically. "And there'd better be a charger somewhere when I get there. My iPod's running out of battery."

Dom just shook his head and pulled the beak of his cap over his eyes.

Alexis rolled her eyes and turned the volume up. What was with people shaking their heads at her?

If she knew how shitty the ride to Kono would be, she would've gone straight to the airport instead. She really didn't care whether she would be shot or not, surely it would be better than _this_. The stupid truck stank and was literally falling apart, not unlike this country, and the roads did nothing to help either. Her earphones fell out every time they ran into big holes in the ground or huge bumps above it, and it annoyed the hell out of her. Besides, she could hardly hear anything other than the horrid clashing sounds of metal every time something in the depths of the vehicle disintegrated.

Fuck Archer.

* * *

"Does anyone else not feel the sympathy that should flood your heart when you see this, or am I just cruel?" asked Alexis aloud, following the CNN convoy to the Food Camp headquarters.

A photographer called James gave her a small smile. "You don't have to be that honest, do you?"

She shrugged. "I don't have to lie either."

"I guess," he conceded, but made no further comments.

Alexis picked her way carefully around the hordes of refugees huddled on the sandy ground, most of them were staring blankly into space, others either looked despaired and some just looked plain bored.

She took in the broken walls and the smashed windows.

Looking up at Dom, who was carrying a backpack which was stuffed to the brim with her things, she asked, "There doesn't seem to be much hope for a charger, hmm?"

* * *

Edited 26 May 2012

Sorry for the huge gap between the updates, I've had problems with uploading stuff onto but here is the 2nd chapter : Thank you so much for my two reviewers, your comments are much appreciated! I am actually quite pleased with the stats, 65 hits to the story so far and 2 reviews, I really did not expect much as there are so few Blood Diamond fics on the net and I'm assuming not many people read BD fics. Nonetheless, I hope gives the movie its own category, I've written to them but they have not replied. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, till next time!


	3. Archer, revisited

_Chapter 3: Archer, revisited_

Alexis had no problem sleeping in a hammock. She could sleep in, or on, virtually anything. Besides, a hammock, despite the fact that it had more than a handful of big tears in it, was much nicer than the bumper truck. Definitely.

So, recharged and refreshed with a splash of bottled mineral water on her face and fresh clean clothes, she made her way to the headquarters of the food camp. It was a temporary structure made out of tin and bricks, but it held its own pretty well. She pushed her way in through the wooden door, which shrieked and resisted her entrance, but she managed to get in and slammed it shut behind her.

"Morning, what's for breakfast?" she said loudly, looking around the empty corridor.

To her astonishment, Maddy Bowen looked out of one of the few doors on the right.

She smiled. "Alexis! What a surprise, I didn't know you were here. Are you volunteering?"

Alexis blinked, the shock of seeing her still quite real. "Am I _what_?"

"Volunteering," repeated Maddy. holding up something which looked like an ID card. "Have you got one of these? We're a bit short on supplies, but I'm sure we have one lying around somewhere. Is your friend with you?"

"Um, yes."

"Fantastic, give me a minute to sort the cards out, I'll meet you out at the front, okay?" Then she disappeared into her room again, and Alexis stood there for a while.

What the hell did she get herself into?

* * *

Alexis found herself out in the sweltering heat thirty minutes later, wearing a ridiculously oversized Unicef tshirt and a matching cap, giving out breakfast, which was a cereal bar and a cup of milk each, to the refugees.

Maddy was working beside her, smiling like Miss United States and occasionally chatting with those in line. As if they even knew English.

"Does this queue ever end?" Alexis asked Pierre, a French volunteer who was working on her other side.

He laughed. "Not really. Are you tired already?"

She scowled and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. "That's an understatement."

"It's okay, our shift is over in an hour," Pierre reassured her.

Alexis groaned. "I should get a fucking Nobel Peace Prize for this."

Pierre simply laughed again.

* * *

"Fuck it, Dom! There's no network coverage!"

Dom lazily swatted flies away from his face and drawled, "Anyone with a brain would figure that out. This is the African wilderness, for Christ's sake."

Alexis gave a frustrated cry. "Then how are we going to get out of this country?"

"We'll have to wait till we get out to the airstrip in Kailahun, as our friend, Mr Archer says," replied Dom, now trying to pull a stool closer to him with his foot.

"I'm gonna fucking _kill_ that man," she grumbled, flopping onto a chair made out of hay.

He looked up from the magazine. "I think what you _really_ meant is you're gonna fuck that man."

Alexis glared at him. "Dom, shut up."

"Fine, fine, I'll shut up. Why don't you go find yourself something to do instead of yelling at me, huh?"

"Ugh!" she threw her hands up and hauled herself up from the poor excuse of a chair. "Fine. I'll go play Scrabble with the refugees, how about that?" And she marched away, yanking her cap down so it almost covered her eyes in almost childish contempt.

"I knew you had a heart in there," called out Dom after her teasingly.

* * *

The heat was practically killing her, and she was only wearing a camisole and super short shorts. Thank God she had the sense not to give her sunscreen away. She would have been burnt into a crisp in an instance.

"My wallet, my credentials, everything's still in Freetown-"

Alexis stopped short in her tracks.

"-we barely got out with our lives."

Slowly, she turned around.

Blond hair. Blue eyes. Green shirt. Cargo pants.

And that voice.

Alexis had to laugh. This was not happening.

"Back away from the fence," snarled the guard, shaking his gun for good measure.

Sidling up next to the guard, Alexis took off her sunglasses and grinned, "Well, well, well. What _do_ we have here?"

Archer stared at her as if he had seen a ghost, and she tut-tutted. "Have you ever been taught not to stare, Mr Archer?" Then she added as an afterthought, "Actually, going around calling people spoiled bitches isn't considered good manners either."

He broke out of his trance and smirked. "Fancy seeing you here, Miss Devereaux. I don't think I saw your suitcases around, huh?"

"Gave them away to a woman on the streets," she replied truthfully. "Nearly died from the heartbreak. Are you looking for someone?"

"Yeah, is Maddy around?"

Alexis sighed dramatically. "Should've known it wasn't me. Maddy's at the back, come on in." When he did not move, she sighed and took her little card from the back of her shorts. "What? I have a V.I.P. pass, okay?" She looked up at the guard imploringly. "Is it okay if he comes in? I know him."

The guard grunted and jerked his head to the side, indicating that he could.

Archer arched an eyebrow at the card. "V.I.P. huh? You're a volunteer?"

"No thanks to Bowen," she replied, turning towards the headquarters.

She heard him say "stay here" to someone, then his footsteps as he caught up with her.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, his shirt brushing her arm.

"Why shouldn't I?"

He held out a hand and ticked off his fingers. "Well, I laughed at you, and I called you a bitch, and I made you miss your plane-"

"I'm a good person, alright?" she interrupted without looking at him.

He didn't reply for a moment, then he said conversationally, "You just don't strike me as the Unicef type, you know, huh?"

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "Swinging on hammocks gets boring."

"How long have you been here?"

"A day."

"When are you leaving?"

"As soon as the BBC people head for Kailahun, which may be days." She turned her heads sideways to give him a look. "No thanks to you."

Archer snorted. "You think you'd still be alive if you went to the airport?"

"At least I wouldn't have had to see your face again," she retorted, with an haughty look in his way.

"Dahling, you know you can't keep your eyes off me," he flashed her a grin, and she looked away with a small smile.

"Get over yourself, Archer."

"Alex!"

She turned around at Dom's voice and saw him jogging towards them.

Alexis grinned. "Hey Dom, meet Danny Archer. Archer, this is Dominic Fisher."

Dom shook his hand and looked almost excited enough to bounce up and down. "Mr Archer! I've heard all about you."

"Have you, huh?" asked Archer, sending Alexis a questioning look.

"I said thatI would fucking kill you, in case you're wondering," she teased.

"I am flattered," he said, shaking his head with a grin.

"Is Bowen at the back?" Alexis asked.

"She was a few minutes ago," said Dom. "I'm off for my rota, see you around, mate!"

Archer nodded and waved, then looked down at Alexis and faked shock, "You would kill me, huh? Guess I'll have to watch my back, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and pointed at the rundown building. "Maddy's at the back of the headquarters."

"You aren't escorting me there?"

"You're a grown man, Mr Archer. I'm sure you don't need a chaperon."

"I'm very sure that I do if it's you, Miss Devereaux."

She arched an elegant eyebrow at that. "If you were a few years younger, I'd think you're hitting on me."

Archer grinned and threw her words back in her face. "Dahling, get over yourself, huh?"

She stood grinning at his back as he sauntered away.

She seemed to be doing quite a bit of that lately.

* * *

Edited 26 May 2012

Here you go! I actually have a couple of chapters written, but I've been too busy to upload them. Thanks for the reviews, I hope you enjoyed the update!


	4. Skin

_Chapter 4: Skin_

"Marshmallow?"

He started at her voice, and let out a sigh of relief when he realised that it was her.

"I didn't know Unicef gives out marshmallows," he commented, joining her at the fire.

Alexis slowly turned the branch to roast the other side. "They don't. It's private stash. Sit down. Dom and Pierre are joining us after their shift is over."

Archer's joints cracked audibly as he made himself comfortable opposite her, the crackling fire between them.

"Getting old, hmm?" she asked none too subtly.

He grinned. "Since you're dying to know, I'm thirty-one."

She took her marshmallows off the fire and inspected them. "My guess was pretty close then."

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Twenty-three."

She glanced at him, fire dancing and flickering in his eyes, then tossed him a branch. "Help yourself. I have a whole bag of marshmallows to roast before the fire goes out."

Archer reached over and dragged the bag to him. "Why don't you share them with the refugees, huh?"

"It won't be fair."

"What won't be fair?"

"Only a few will get the marshmallows."

"Well, a few getting marshmallows is better than none getting any, huh?"

Alexis carefully bit into a marshmallow and tore it away from the branch with her teeth. "Well, no. It's better that no one gets any, so no one would want any, and no one would want to kill anyone."

He nodded slowly, as if digesting what she had said. "Interesting logic."

"I hate that word," she made a face. "Logic. A bit pretentious word that no one understands, really."

"That's not true," objected Archer. "It just means an organised train of thought."

"Logic," said Alexis. "Is a branch of philosophy."

Archer smirked at her. "That's why you dropped out, huh? Law's all about logic, I've heard."

She held up a finger and wagged it. "Uh-uh. Law's all about the dollar sign, not logic, not anything else."

He took a long look at her. "A cynic, huh?"

"Not unlike yourself," she quipped.

"How would you know I'm a cynic? You hardly know me."

Alexis finished off her marshmallow, running her tongue across the roof of her mouth to get rid of the sticky, sweet residue there. "Maddy talks about you, you know. And to be honest, it gets pretty damn annoying."

"Does she?" His eyebrows rose a few inches. "So what did she tell you about me?"

"Well, she told me you're a cynic," she started off, staring straight at him. "She told me you're from Rhodesia, you told her to piss her when you found out she's a journalist- and that you smuggle diamonds."

Archer paused as if in disbelief, then narrowed his eyes at her. "You were eavesdropping."

She smiled pleasantly. "Correction: I was walking by an open window this afternoon, and you were talking a bit too loudly."

He openly glared at her. "So what do you want from me, huh?"

Alexis looked up at him, surprised "What makes you think I want anything from you?"

Archer laughed, a short sarcastic laugh, and stood up, pacing like a caged panther. "Come on, Miss Devereaux. It doesn't take a genius to work out what kind of person you are."

She tilted her head to one side, as if puzzled. "What kind of person _am_ I?"

He turned abruptly and fell onto one knee right in front of her- perhaps a bit too close for comfort- and fiercely whispered, "You are not ruining this for me, you hear me? I'm going to Kailahun and _nobody_, least of all _you_, is going to stop me."

Kailahun. Looks like they were headed to the same place.

Alexis grinned, just to piss him off a bit more. "Mr. Archer, are you suggesting that I will blackmail you?"

"I think you would know the answer to that."

Alexis half-opened her mouth, both amused and offended, trying to figure out what to say. "So, you've called me a spoilt bitch, and now you're telling me I'm a blackmailer?"

Archer stared at her, as if challenging her to say otherwise. "So what if I am?"

She deftly stood up, folded her arms defensively across her chest, and said, "Well, I'm telling you, Mr. Archer, that I have no intention whatsoever of blackmailing you."

Archer stood as well, now towering over her, obviously trying to intimidate her with his height. Well, tough luck. She was nowhere near intimidated.

"What makes it so hard for you to believe me, hmm?" she demanded, glaring at him.

He was all but sneering at her, that infuriating look of self-assurance and scorn on his face. "Tell me, Miss Devereaux. Would you trust me?"

She answered, out of sheer defiance, a resounding, "No."

Archer spread his arms out, as if making an important point. "Exactly. You don't trust me, huh? You and me, Miss Devereaux, we're the same kind of people. Only idiots trust people like us. "

"So basically you're saying I'm dishonest and immoral, on top of being spoilt and selfish?" Her lips curled up in sarcastic amusement.

He shrugged, shoving his hands into their respective pockets. "You say that as if it's a bad thing. But it's us who make it out on top, you know, huh?"

Alexis smirked. "For someone who's trying to persuade me not to sell your secret, you're trying _really_ hard."

Archer considered this, then as if in surrender, he let out the breath he was holding, his shoulders slumping forwards as he did so. Then, in a compromising tone, he said almost pleadingly, "Now, listen. I need this stone, okay? I just need you to keep it to yourself, and after I find it, I promise you'll have a share, huh?"

Alexis shook her head, looking away in near disgust. "So that's how you live, huh? Begging and talking your way around people? It must be a very fulfilling life, I see."

One corner of his lips lifted in sardonic mirth. "Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Miss Devereaux. There isn't exactly a whole wide world of opportunities for a white boy in Africa."

"Why don't you get out of this country, then?"

"Why not, huh? That's why I need this stone. It's my ticket out of this godforsaken continent."

"I can get you out of this country," replied Alexis without thinking.

He chuckled, genuinely amused. "And how much do I have to pay you?"

Alexis almost punched him in frustration. "Will you fucking listen to me? I don't _want_ anything from you. Which part of the sentence don't you get?"

He pursed his lips. "Possibly the whole all?"

"For a clever man you are quite thick."

He grinned at her paradox. "Why would you want to help me anyway? I'm a big, bad man, Miss Devereaux."

"Because I feel sorry for you," she said, more out of contempt than truth.

Alexis watched the grin slide from his face, a stony, reined-in temper now in its stead. He took two carefully measured steps forward, then reached up to take her chin delicately between his thumb and index finger and tilted it upwards ever so slightly so she was looking straight into his blue eyes.

"You can hate me, by all means, do, but don't feel sorry me," he said, slowly and deliberately, his glare piercing.

Then he stepped away, and brushed past her. She turned her head to watch him stride away purposefully, his shoulders hunched in a defensive manner, his forest green shirt billowing as he walked against the breeze.

"Getting under his skin, are you?"

Alexis grinned half-heartedly at Dom's comment, which came from behind her, and said casually, "I'm working at it.' She turned around and smiled brightly. "Marshmallow?"

* * *

Dominic didn't bother covering his mouth as he yawned languidly from where he was sitting.

"I'm hitting the sack," he announced, scratching his back. "'Night, Alex, Pierre."

"I think I'll get going too," said the Frenchman, getting onto his feet as well. "'Night Alex. I'll see you tomorrow morning. We have the seven o'clock shift."

Alexis groaned. "Shit, Pierre, I was hoping you've forgotten about that."

He chuckled. "Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"Yes, mum," she deadpanned.

She listened as the boys made their way into their rooms, the low murmur of voices and shuffle of feet as they moved around. Then all fell silent, and she sat, staring thoughtfully into the firelight, her bejeweled fingers fiddling with the ends of her dark brown hair which gone unwashed for two days already.

How she missed civilization.

With a sigh, she grabbed the plastic cup of water Dom left behind and doused the fire. Dragging her steps, she slowly went up the stairs.

Only to find someone in the doorway.

Alexis noted quietly, "A bit too dark to be admiring the scenery, hmm?"

She could hardly make out his face in the dark, but she could tell by his tense posture that he was far from a happy bunny.

Without answering, he moved so that he was leaning on one side of the doorframe, making way for her. She slipped into the space, shaking her hair from her face, and folded her hands neatly behind her lower back, palms on the rough wood. Sliding her feet forward, she stopped when she felt her knee bump into his.

"I think we're in a deadlock, aren't we?" she asked quietly.

"I have a proposal," he said curtly.

Alexis leant her head back against the doorframe, her eyes, now adjusted to the dark, sought out his. "Actually, so do I."

"I'll make sure you get to the camp, and I'll get permission for your jet to land there. I know the colonel well."

She more or less snorted. "I'm sure a wad of cash would do the trick."

"It's an army you're dealing with, not some brainless government fool," he ground out. "Money will get you nowhere."

Alexis rolled her eyes, though she knew he wouldn't see her. "Why don't you hear my suggestion out first?"

Archer shifted, as if bracing himself.

"Take me with you."

Silence.

"What?"

"Take me with you on your hunt," she repeated.

"No."

"That's it? No?"

Alexis fancied she heard his teeth grind. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it would be?"

"Even better," she said lightly. "It will be the perfect story."

She could hear the confusion in his voice when he asked, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm writing a book," she informed him.

He laughed. It sounded good, a deep throaty laugh which was, for once, not spiked with bitterness which she had heard so much from him.

"That's crazy," he declared. "You're not going."

Alexis smiled. "Are you _worried_ about me?"

"I'm worried about my own ass, more like."

"I'm touched," she returned with a touch of humour.

A soft wind blew, ruffling the leaves in the trees. Alexis looked up at the curve of the moon and marveled at how quiet everything was. She wondered what time it was- she had left her watch in her room.

"Were you joking about the book?" Archer asked after a moment.

"No. I started writing a few days ago, in fact."

"What's it about?"

Alexis grinned to herself. "It's about a man who walks into a bar."

"Sounds like it's destined to be a bestseller, huh?" replied Archer lightheartedly.

"Mmhmm."

"So does my offer still stand?" he asked.

"Only if you promise me my story."

"What story?"

"Your diamond hunt."

"So the story's about me?"

She shrugged. "I haven't decided yet."

Archer sighed in resignation. "Okay."

Alexis extended her hand to grasp his. "Deal."

* * *

Edited 26 May, 2012

I'm sorry for the delay, school got in the way, I'm afraid. Alex is starting to bond with our favourite man, yay! Thanks for reading guys, your comments are much appreciated.


	5. Smile

_Chapter 5: Smile_

Pierre was devastated that she was leaving, or at least that was what he said. He gave her a hug and his phone number, and insisted that she kept the Unicef t-shirt she had been wearing the past couple of days.

"A souvenir," he said.

Alexis threw it out of the window as soon as the camp slipped out of sight.

The little bus in which she sat at the very back- squashed between an extremely dirty window and Maddy, who was busily tapping on her laptop- was crammed to the brim with BBC and CNN journalists and crew members. Dom sat two rows from her, industriously working on a crossword on a scrappy piece of newspaper.

"When will we get to Kailahun?" asked Alexis.

Maddy looked up from her laptop and glanced at her watch. "It'll probably take half a day, depending on road conditions."

She nearly banged her head against the window, but restrained herself and asked instead, "Do you have paper and a pen?"

The journalist nodded and found exactly what she wanted from her battered backpack. Alexis took the crumpled piece of lined paper and set it against her thigh, only to find it too soft to draw on. Maddy noticed and handed her a paperback book.

"_The Genealogy of Morals_? Sounds like pretty deep stuff," commented Alexis.

Maddy smiled. "I guess Africa brings out the worst in me."

Alexis smiled back, then leant back lazily, looking for someone to sketch.

Her eyes alighted on Archer, apparently catching up on his sleep. He was three rows down on the opposite side of the bus, his head resting on the ridge of the dirty sofa, his sandy blond hair a royal mess, his sunglasses shielding his eyes, and his mouth half open. In short, he was quite a sight to behold.

Perfect.

With a grin, she started sketching.

Maddy looked over after a while, watching her.

"You're an artist?" she asked.

"I'm more of a painter," replied Alexis, looking up to study Archer's nose, before dropping her eyes to her half-completed sketch again. "I've sold a few of my paintings."

"Impressive," commented Maddy.

Alexis shrugged. "Well, all of my clients were my dad's friends, but what the hell, I'm not complaining if they can spare a poor painter a few hundred bucks."

Fifteen minutes later, Archer was very rudely disturbed from his sleep when something sharp struck him on his forehead.

Alexis snickered as he watched him virtually jump out of his skin, catching the paper plane before it slipped to the floor. Unfolding it, he took off his sunglasses to study the sketch, then turned around and stared straight at her.

"Pretty amazing, huh?" she shouted over the incredibly loud noise the bus was making.

He stood up and carefully made his way to the back of the bus. Maddy moved over and he slid into the space where she was sitting with a grunt, sliding one arm onto the top of back of the seat, right behind her neck.

"This looks nothing like me," he declared.

Alexis snatched the sketch from his hand and pretended to examine it in great detail. "Hmmm. Are you sure? I think it looks awfully like you. Don't you think so, Maddy?"

She grinned, and said, "Very much so."

"I don't sleep like that," he insisted, a small smile tugging on his lips.

"Oh yes you do, we all saw you!"

He grinned easily, his fingers toying with her hair. "I _told_ you you can't keep your eyes off me."

"Haha," she said flatly, rolling her eyes. "I'm surprised you don't walk around bent over considering the size of your enormous ego-inflated head."

"You wound me, dahling," he quipped, slipping his sunglasses on.

Alexis caught sight of Dom staring at her with an arched eyebrow, but just as she was about to respond, the bus suddenly lurched to a halt, sending her crashing into the back of the chair in front of her.

"Jesus!" she shrieked. "What the hell was that?"

There was a flurry of activity, with everyone jumping up and shouting and pointing at the same time.

"What's happening?" she asked Archer, who had got onto his feet as well.

"Stay on the bus," he instructed her, his eyes on something in front. "Don't come out, you hear me?"

She frowned. "What-"

Archer turned around and grabbed her shoulder, pushing her down. "Just stay here, okay?"

"What the fuck Archer! Maddy?"

Maddy shook her head. "Stay here. It's safer. We'll be back in no time."

Practically the whole bus was evacuated in two seconds flat, and only the driver and herself was left on the bus. Alexis made her way to the front of the bus, and gaped at the scene.

A truck was overturned in the middle of the road, and scattered around the smoldering vehicle were bloodied bodies, and weeping women with children in their arms. There was a hectic scramble among the journalists as they snapped pictures on their cameras, while others rushed to treat the injured.

"What happened?" she asked the driver, most probably a native.

"R.U.F.," he said simply in heavily accented English.

"The rebels-" Alexis had hardly finished her sentence when gunshots sounded, and she immediately dropped onto her knees, eyes wide and heart pounding wildly.

There were screams and it was absolute chaos as the crew ran back to the shelter of the bus, pushing past Alexis so quickly that she was knocked off balance. She hardly had time to curse before she was pushed to the back of the bus as people kept swarming in.

Looking through the window she saw Maddy still out there, along with Archer. But she couldn't see Dom anywhere.

"Dom? Dom!" she screamed. She tried to fight her way to the door, but the bus had already started pulling out of the dangerous zone.

"Miss, sit down!" A random hand shot out and tried to pull her down onto a seat.

"You have to go back! My friends are still there!" she shouted in a panic. "Pull back, you fucking idiot!"

"We can't go back, it's too dangerous," said a BBC photographer.

"But they're still there!"

"Don't worry, there are army officers there, they'll be fine," he argued.

Shakily, Alexis flopped bonelessly into an empty, and lifted a trembling hand to brush aside a strand of hair from her eyes.

For the first time in her life, Alexis was scared.

* * *

When they got to the airstrip, night had fallen and Alexis was totally spent. When the bus finally rumbled to a halt, she followed the crowd off the battered vehicle, and was surprised at how chilly it was.

She hardly noticed anything as she was led into one of the tents that seemed to be abundant in number around the camp. This one was lit by lanterns hanging from the top of the tent, and sleeping bags lined the ground. Putting her sack down by one of them, she left the tent and stopped a passing soldier.

"Do you know anyone called Archer by any chance?" she asked.

"Archer? Danny Archer?"

Alex almost sighed in relief. "Yeah, that's him. Is he here?"

The officer rubbed his nose. "Not that I know of. The colonel is expecting him though."

"Oh. If he gets here, can you tell him that Alexis Devereaux is looking for him?"

"Certainly miss, good night. I've heard that you had a long day."

She gave him a wry smile and said quietly, "Yeah."

Alexis made use of her time quite wisely, she thought. She spent the next day poking around the camp, checking out tents (many of which she was not supposed to enter), talking to people and generally getting really bored. The anxiety that initially gnawed at her gave way to a resigned calm. If there was one person who could make it out alive, it was Archer. And if there was one person who could keep up, it was Dom.

No worries, no stress.

She quickly found her favourite tent. She was pretty sure it was the one-stop for soldiers before they left for their expeditions. There was practically everything one needed- dry cereals, biscuits, first aid stuff, satellite phones, some strange-looking gadgets and- thank the Lord- alcohol.

Okay, so there were only gin and vodka, and some mysterious force told her that it was unlikely she would find anything to mix them with, but hey, it was hardly the time to be picky. So she nicked two small bottles and hid them in the pockets of the oversized shirt she borrowed from one of the journalists.

Alexis was sitting on the edge of the camp, on a large rock, sketching (the army was very well-stocked in quality paper and pencils) the view of the mountains from her perch when she heard someone approach.

"Miss?"

"What?" she asked shortly, not bothering to look up. It was probably time for lunch, which was baked beans and toast the day before. Needless to say she was not too enthusiastic about it.

"You asked me to find you when Archer gets here."

Alexis nearly fell off the rock having turned around so quickly. "He's here?"

The officer nodded. "Just arrived."

"Is someone else with him?"

"A couple of people."

She literally threw away her sketch and didn't even bother with her shoes, dashing across the grass to the main campsite.

She burst into laughter when she saw Dom, muddy and bloodied, but very much alive.

"Dom!" she squealed, uncharacteristically, and flew straight into him, nearly knocking the whole six foot of him down to the dirt.

"Aleeeex!" he echoed, teasing her, but squeezed her tightly. "Christ you have no idea how worried I was. Do you know how your dad would skewer me if I lost you?"

"I don't care, you're alive!" she pulled back and did a silly dance. "Oh my GOD I've never been so happy to see you before. Nor will I ever again, don't get used to it."

Alexis looked around and saw Maddy talking to a black guy who she had seen before at the Unicef camp, he was always hanging around Archer. Speaking of which, he was following an officer into one of the tents she remembered as the Colonel's headquarters.

She silently hoped that the Colonel didn't notice the missing Times magazines. A girl needed some form of entertainment, no matter how bland it might be.

"If you're still after him, you'd better act quick," said Dom mischievously. "The American's getting him wrapped around her finger pretty damn quickly, if you asked me."

"Shut up, Dom," she muttered, shooting him a glare.

He sighed dramatically. "Where has the love gone?"

Alexis sent him to the guest tent to get himself cleaned up, and stood on one side to wait for Archer to show up. When he finally did emerge from the Colonel's tent, he didn't look entirely pleased. But before she got the chance to bug him, he turned abruptly and headed to where Maddy was sorting her things out on a bench. She silently watch them converse, and she could see what Dom had meant. He was smitten with her.

Maddy looked rather upset when she got up, and Alexis watched Archer sneak into the supplies tent rather stealthily. Taking the longer but less noticeable way round, she snuck into the tent as well, and luckily, Archer's back was to her when she got in from the back.

"Boo."

Archer nearly dropped the satellite phone he had just picked up, and cursed when he found that it was her.

"Fuck it, don't sneak up on people like that, Alex," he complained, stuffing the phone into one of the sacks he was stocking.

"Nice to see you alive too," she replied pleasantly. "What are you doing?"

"Getting out of here."

"Why?"

He cast her a suspicious look. "The Colonel knows about the stone, and he wants me to join his operation."

"I didn't tell him about it, if that's what you're thinking," she said.

"I didn't accuse you of anything," he said nonchalantly.

"I can read between the lines."

"If you insist on me being mistrustful of you, suit yourself," he snapped, now moving onto vodka.

Alexis stepped around a box on the ground. "Have you asked for permission for my jet yet?"

"Yeah. It will take a few days but it will be fine."

She was quiet for a while, watching him fiddle with a rectangular electronic thing, then asked, "How long will it take you?"

"How long what will take me to what?" he asked impatiently.

"For you to find the diamond."

Archer shrugged. "I don't know. Considering the fact that we'll be going into R.U.F. territory, maybe three or four days."

"Why don't you just go in and bomb the shit out of them?"

He looked at her as if she just said the stupidest thing ever. "Bomb them?"

Alexis shrugged. "You have the army behind you, don't you?"

Archer laughed, one of those sarcastic ones again, and said, "You think I'm going with the army? No, this stone's mine. I ain't sharing it with anyone. I'm going alone."

"Alone? Are you suicidal?"

"I have a guide."

"You'll never make it out alive," she told him.

He shrugged again. "Maybe."

"You're willing to die for this diamond?" asked Alexis, unable to keep the almost childish confusion out of her voice.

Archer sighed. "Do you normally ask this many questions?"

"Only if I'm talking to an idiot," she said pointedly.

He shook his head and walked out of the tent, throwing one sack over his shoulder and held the other loosely in his hand.

"My offer still stands," she said, following his long strides across the grass and towards the runway, where a plane had landed.

"What offer?"

"Of getting you out of this country."

Archer stopped abruptly and turned to face her. "Alex, you can't get me out of this country."

She almost stamped her foot. "Why not?"

"I'm not worth the trouble, okay?"

Alexis frowned and watched him walk away, obviously headed to Maddy and the African, who were waiting for him.

The two of them talked, then looked at each other for a long time. She probably shouldn't have, but Alexis found herself walking towards them.

Maddy smiled as she approached. "Alexis, so glad to see you again. Archer told me you're not leaving yet."

She shook her head. "I'm waiting for my jet."

Maddy handed her a white card. "My phone numbers, just in case."

Alexis gave her a half-hearted smile, then asked, "Do you have a pen?"

"Always," answered the journalist.

Alexis scribbled her number down the back of Maddy's hand. "My number, just in case."

She let Maddy give her a hug, then stepped back. "I guess this is goodbye."

"Safe flight," offered Alexis.

Maddy smiled, then turned around and headed towards the plane. She suddenly stopped and turned her head towards Archer, asking, "Are you going to call me?"

He smiled back. "As soon as I find a goddam phone."

Maddy shook her head and turned around again. Alexis fancied she heard her say an unconvinced "yeah, right."

Alexis looked sideways to find Archer still staring at her retreating figure, and said quietly, "I think you're in love with her."

Archer looked at her as if she was mad. She took the sketch she drew in the bus from the back of her shorts, turned it over and wrote her phone number. Maddy forgot to ask for her pen back. Oh well.

"In case you change your mind," she said, handing the sketch to him.

Archer nodded, and tucked in into a pocket in his shirt. "I doubt it, but thanks."

Alexis let out a deep breath, looking away. "Good luck." She turned to the African and smiled. "Good luck to you too."

"Thank you," he replied, in a deep voice.

She kept her eyes on the ground as she walked slowly away, listening to the rustle of grass as they set off towards their diamond, and the roar of the plane engines as it took off on the other side.

Dom found her an hour later, sitting on the rock again, resuming her sketch in the deepening dusk.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a bit concerned at her silence.

Alexis was just putting the finishing touches to the sketch- two figures headed towards the mountains.

"Yeah," she replied in a remarkably tranquil voice. "Better than ever." She turned around and flashed him a genuine smile. "We're going home."


	6. Give Up

Chapter 6: Give Up

Alexis did not sleep well the following couple of days. Only Dom and herself were left in the guest tent, and she knew he could hear her tossing and turning late into the night, but he did not mention it.

The days were long and Alexis barely managed to keep herself entertained. On the second day, she stole more of the Colonel's Time magazines, and spent one whole morning making paper roses out of the outdated pages. She had given them all out by lunch time, and the Colonel did not seem the least bit suspicious as he took the paper rose from her. Oh well, she _was_ doing him a favour of getting rid of the old magazines after all.

"Miss Devereaux?"

She was lying on her stomach on the grass, sketching the mountains again. But this time with the colour pencils she found in the Colonel's desk.

"Yeah?" she called out lazily without looking up.

The grass crunched under the man's feet as he walked closer, and Alexis tilted her head up to see a random officer.

To tell the truth, she couldn't really tell who was who, even though she had been here for three whole days. They looked pretty much the same in their uniforms.

"Joost," he said briskly, introducing himself. "Archer told me to keep an eye on you."

"Did he?" she deadpanned.

Joost nodded. "We're clearing out some of our jets tomorrow, there's a slot for your jet at 1600. If you miss it you'll have to wait for four more days."

Alexis nodded. "Awesome. Why don't you pass the message on to Dom?"

The officer sighed. "Miss, I'm not your secretary."

She did not reply, but took out a red pencil and started shading the foot of the hills till she heard him walk away with a disgruntled grumble.

"Any news of Archer?" she called out.

Joost stopped, then said, "No."

Alexis put the pencil down and licked her thumb, then brought it down to the rich red shades and rubbed it in.

It looked frighteningly like blood.

--

Dom was on the satellite phone with Tom, their pilot, on the other end of the line at lunch, while shoving his third slice of beans on toast into his already full mouth.

"Yeah, the guys said it's 1600. And Alex says bring her a box of water colour and Mars bars."

Alexis picked at the parched baked beans, wrinkling her nose in bored disgust. She turned to Joost, who had chosen to sit beside her, and asked, "Do you eat this for lunch every day?"

"Well, no, but we've run out of other food reserves and the road to our supplier was blown up the other day by the R.U.F., so I guess we're stuck with this for a few more days," he replied with a shrug.

Dom was nodding at something Tom was saying. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. See you in a few, yeah?"

"Everything going well?" asked Joost.

"Yeah, he should get here on time," said Dom.

"Awesome," commented Alex unsmilingly.

"You seem quite miserable for someone who's going home," remarked Joost.

"Quit staring, will you?" she retorted rudely.

"She's not in a good mood," explained Dom ruefully. "Been like that for the past few days."

"Ah," said Joost wisely, as if he understood.

Alex rolled her eyes, stood up, and proclaimed loudly. "Men are idiots."

Laughter rumbled throughout the cafeteria, and she rolled her eyes, headed for the exit when the door flung open and a soldier ran in with a satellite phone in one hand.

"Sir, it's Archer," he shouted, out of breath.

Alex held her breath and watched Joost leap out of his seat and grabbed the phone as if his life depended on it.

"Archer, you fucker, the Colonel's far from amused, I'll have you know," he fumed into the phone, then quieted for a few moments. "Alright. We'll send in an air strike at 1300. And you'd better be fucking serious, or you're good as dead."

The whole room was humming in silent anticipation, and Joost knew it. "Boys, we leave in 30."

Alex had to run to catch up with Joost, asking, "Where is he? Is he okay?"

Joost stopped and grabbed her arm. "Lady, I must ask you to keep out of my way. I don't have time for you and if you must know, Archer's still breathing."

"Will he be okay?" she asked.

He breathed through his nose and said, "I can't tell. It's a battlefield out there, okay?" He glanced at his watch. "I won't be here when you leave. Have a nice flight."

Dom walked up to her side, and they stood, watching the frenzied but certainly highly organized preparations going on.

"You can't wait for him, Alex," said Dom in a low voice.

She turned her head and stared solemnly at him, and spoke as if it were a promise. "I won't."

--

Alex stared and said, "A chopper."

Dom was waving fanatically, asking, "What's wrong with a chopper?"

"Ugh, I hate choppers," grumbled Alex, and began walking towards the landed aircraft.

A rather cute young soldier was at the bottom of the stairs, and he saluted her as she got on. "Safe flight, miss."

Alex faked a coy smile and blew him a kiss, snickering as his face flamed up, then ran all the way up to the chopper.

"Tom!" she said cheerfully, leaning over to give the pilot a peck on the cheek. "You brought a chopper! Fuck you."

Tom, an old friend in his thirties, grinned and handed her a box of water colours. "Your art supplies as required, and your Mars bars."

"Don't think you can get away with this Tom," she warned with a grin. "But thanks for picking me up anyway."

"Tom! How are you, pal?"

The two exchanged manly pats on the back. "Hey Dom, glad to see you alive and kicking."

Dom slid into the empty seat next to the pilot, and buckled up. "You and me both."

Tom turned around in his seat and asked, "All set to go?"

Alex glanced out of the small window while putting on her seatbelt, and nodded firmly, "More than ever."

All other sounds were drowned out by the propellers as they lifted off the runway, and Alex stared pensively as the hills on her right, which she had sketched numerous times these few days, slowly slip out of sight.

"Tom?" she yelled over the noise of the chopper.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Can you pull over to those mountains? I want to paint them."

Tom gave her a stern look over his shoulder.

"Pleeease?" she pleaded, putting on a puppy face that worked every single time.

Tom shook his head. "I really shouldn't spoil you, should I?"

Alexis grinned and carefully made her way to the back of the chopper, where there was a slightly larger window on the lower side of the wall which was installed to let passengers see what went on down there.

She sat on the floor with her legs crossed and turned over to a new page of the sketchbook Tom kept with him at all times to keep her from moaning in boredom. She found a half empty bottle of water on the floor, and ripped off a piece of paper to use as a palette.

Rich greens and brownish reds and clear blues and pure whites stained her fingers as she painted the beautiful scene below with her hands, since Tom was stupid enough to forget her brushes. She reveled at the cool paint on her skin, and the scent of pastels she had not smelled for a long time.

She suddenly stopped and just stared at the green hills stained in darkening red for a long time. Alex was not the one to be sentimental, but damn, it might be the last time she would ever look upon these hills.

And she knew he was in there. Somewhere.

She jumped when her satellite phone rang, and picking it up from the throng of random things she left on the floor, she pressed the green button. "Hello?"

"Alex? Is that you?"

For a moment, she thought it was her mother's voice. "Yeah. What's up?"

"It's Archer."

Only then did she recognize Maddy's voice. "Archer? What's wrong?"

"He's hurt, he just called me, I think he's dying."

"Fuck," swore Alexis, panic blooming in her chest. "Fuck it! Do you know where he is?"

"He called on his satellite phone, I have his coordinates."

"Wait." Alex scrambled up to her feet and scurried to Tom's side, shoving the phone into his hand. "We have to go somewhere. She has the coordinates."

Dom grabbed her hand, and she spun around wildly, disconcerted. "Alex. Alex, look at me. What happened?"

Her voice was coarse. "It's Archer. He's hurt."

She was thrown off balance when Tom swung the chopper around sharply. "Sit down, Alex."

She did. "Where is he?"

"I know where he is. I've seen a strip there, we should be able to land." Tom turned to her and met her eyes briefly. "I just hope we get there in time."

--

Red. His blood on the red earth.

_You'll never leave, Danny._

He would never leave, not now.

The sun was red. It shone brilliantly in his eyes.

_You're African to the bone._

Yes, he was.

_Ah, a cynic. Why don't you sit down and make me miserable?_

Brown curls, and those eyes.

_Listen-_

_No, _you_ listen._

_Maybe in another life._

It hurt so bad. He couldn't breathe.

_Find yourself a good man Maddy. You deserve to be happy._

He wasn't a good man. He tried, but he wasn't one.

_I think you're in love with her._

Yeah, he was.

He couldn't hear anything. Only noise. White noise.

_You should get on the plane._

Green eyes.

_So should you._

No. Not him.

He was slipping.

So death felt like this.

Hands. Hands on his face.

_Archer._

_In case you change your mind._

_I doubt it, but thanks._

_Archer._

He smiled and closed his eyes.

He gave up.

--

My dedicated readers, I apologise for disappearing like that! I've been so busy with university applications it's not even funny. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've written up the next couple so hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.


	7. I'm Not Dead

Chapter 7: I'm Not Dead

Archer blinked.

It felt like centuries since he last did that.

He saw white.

Was it heaven?

He was made aware of the presence of his body when it responded to a bloodcurdling scream that rang painfully in his ears.

Alexis appeared above him.

"You woke up! You're awake! Ahhhh you're alive!"

That made him pretty damn sure he was _not_ in heaven.

Archer opened his mouth to speak, but only made as far as "Fuc-" before his throat closed up and violent coughs racked his body. An acute ache in his chest knocked the breath out of him, and in his misty pain he saw Alexis sprint out of the room.

He was sinking into darkness when somebody pushed something onto his face, and soothing voices lulled him to sleep.

"Archer. Are you awake?"

"Warrda."

"What?"

"Wa-water."

"Oh, right." A clink of glass. "Here."

A sigh. "Where am I?"

"Sydney."

Pause. "Australia?"

"Yeah."

"What date is it?"

"26th July, 1999. You've been out for a month and a little more."

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah."

Alex shifted in her chair.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah. Some bits."

"Get some sleep. You look tired."

"Yeah, I should."

"'Night."

"'Night."

----------

"The doctor says you're okay to go."

"Okay."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Dunno. Haven't really thought about it."

"Thought not."

"Where are you going?"

"London."

"London?"

"I got a place at St. Martins. It's an art and design school."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should suit you, huh?"

"Guess so. It's just that the fucking British weather doesn't sit well with me."

Pause.

"Do you still have your passport?"

"You heard me. I left it in Freetown."

"You were actually telling the truth?"

"No point lying, huh?"

"Hmm, you'll need some help then, yeah?"

"I guess so."

"You wanna come to London with me?"

"You want me to come with you?"

"Don't fuck with me, Archer."

"'Course not, Alex. Never."

"Are you coming then?"

Archer stirred his tea silently.

"Why not? I've got unfinished business in London."

Alex watched him.

"Your diamond."

"My diamond."

"Did you find it in the end?"

"Yes."

"Cool. Does that mean I get my story?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He put his spoon down with a clink.

"It's far from finished yet."

Please don't kill me. I've been through ice and fire these few months it's not even funny… I don't know if I've mentioned my university applications but well in the end Cambridge rejected me but I have a great place to go, so screw them! I know this is a short chapter, but hey, Archer's alive and they're going to London! Thanks for the reviews readers, much appreciated!


	8. Current Affairs

Chapter 8: Current Affairs

"Nice place."

Alex rolled her eyes and lugged her suitcases into the apartment, her handbag sliding down her shoulder, dragging the collar of her oversized sweater down with it.

"Nice place? This is Sloane fucking Square. It's not a nice place. It's amazing. As much as I dislike London I'll have to admit that."

Archer chuckled and closed the door behind him after hauling two of her other suitcases in. "Just how loaded are you, huh?"

"The correct question is just how loaded my dad is," she answered, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

"What does he do?"

"He's a lawyer, and a 'senior advisor' at a handful of those investment banks," she said disdainfully, walking into the kitchen and opening a cupboard. She took a glass out and filled it with tap water. "Those retards pay that old man God knows how much just to talk crap about the market going up or down. But hey, I'm not complaining."

Archer looked around appreciatively. "Must be a good life, not having to worry about anything."

"Who says I don't have to worry about anything?" retorted Alex, taking a sip from her glass then washing the rest down the drain. "My whole life has been a bundle of worries. There are worse things than money to worry about, mark my words."

Archer held up a finger and said wisely, "Only if you don't have to worry about money, huh?"

"Whatever," she shrugged.

"You just don't strike me as the type who worries a lot," he said, walking around the sitting area to the bar, leaning on it.

"Just because I haven't published a book about all my problems doesn't mean I don't have any. I value my privacy, thank you."

"So what problems do you have?" he asked.

She turned around and opened the fridge. "First, there is no food whatsoever to keep us alive in here."

Archer chuckled.

"Second, school starts in two days and I still don't know where the fuck it is."

"Oh no," lamented Archer.

"Third, I'm living all alone with a ex-diamond smuggler who has nowhere better to go," she said almost teasingly.

He grinned. "Yeah, that you _should_ worry about."

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit," chanted Alex as she ran in front of him, pushing people out of the way as if she owned the road.

She was quite a spectacle to behold. Her oversized tee shirt had slipped to one side, her sandals were untied, she had a cup of coffee in one hand that kept spilling over, her hair was messy and she was shouldering an enormous bag which looked as if it were made out of real snake skin, with brushes, pencils and stray pieces of paper sticking out of it.

Archer shook his head, jogging to keep up. That woman was mad.

"We're here!" she lurched to a halt without so much of a warning, and he nearly ran straight into her. "And I'm only 20 minutes late! Go me!"

"Well, good luck I suppose, huh?" he offered, giving her a pat on the back.

"Christ, I haven't been to school for ages! What am I gonna do?" she whined, pushing her Ray Bans up and stared up at the grey building with a kind of comical panic. "And it's fugly."

"You'll be fine," he insisted, taking her elbow and started to walk her towards the gate. "I'll pick you up at three. Enjoy yourself."

She threw him a lopsided smile his way and broke into a run again, squealing when literally half a cup of her coffee spilled over and burnt her fingers.

He laughed.

-------------

Archer found himself back on the tube later with a Subway and a cup of black coffee. The train was almost empty- it was past the morning rush, there was only a random assortment of laid-back young men and prim and proper old ladies.

He knew his way around London. He had been here a few times on business, the last time only being a year ago. As he munched on his baguette, he mulled over the mess he was in.

It wasn't too big a mess, as long as nobody knew he was in London, or more importantly, the fact that he was not dead and buried. But he had no money, no job, no connections, no future- he had put all his hope in the diamond, and now it was gone.

He needed it back. Well, at least the money, if not the stone itself.

Hopefully Solomon made it out alive. Heck, he'd better have. He didn't fucking risk his neck for him to get killed without selling the diamond.

And then there was Maddy. Archer still remembered Alex's words. _I think you're in love with her_. He hoped she got the story out. It was the most selfless thing he had done in his whole life, handing over that little book he had kept with him over the years. Looking back it had been something of a relief, pressing the battered old notebook into her hands. It was as if he was letting go of what he had done. It was like- salvation.

He stared at the empty seat opposite to his.

He needed a plan.

And he needed a way to pay Alex back. Sometimes he had to pinch himself to make sure he was not dreaming. She saved his ass. Big time. More the reason to get his share of the two million pounds Van de Kaap promised to pay for the stone.

Archer wasn't stupid. He could guess why she did all this. He didn't miss the looks she sometimes sent his way, thoughtful, almost shy, when she thought he wasn't paying attention. Sometimes he still dreamed of that afternoon when she said goodbye for what she thought was the last time. The intensity shocked him like electricity.

He didn't really know how to deal with that. He liked her, but not in that way. She was fun to be around, her very presence could make him laugh, but she was too young. She was what, 23? She had a life to live, and better men to spend her time on.

And he was pretty sure she was right. He _was_ in love with her.

Maddy Bowen.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when the train went over a particularly rough bump, and the lights overhead flickered indecisively. Archer finished the rest of his baguette and looked over his shoulder to find that he had got to Hyde Park Corner. Figuring he might as well go for a walk, he packed up the remains of his breakfast and hopped off just in time.

He had never been to Hyde Park before. He was not one for trees and grass and benches. But he squared his shoulders and strode into the park anyway. It was a very nice day, by English standards, and the park was busy with dog walkers, retirees, tourists and mothers fussing over hyperactive children.

Archer walked around for a bit- he needed the exercise. He had mended well, but as much as he hated admitting it, his lungs were not 100% yet, and might never be again. Even now, just walking, put pressure on his lungs, not to mention the light jogging he had done earlier on. Eyeing a bench, he headed for it and sat down, draping one arm lazily over the back of it.

He sighed heavily and looked out at the lake.

Maddy.

How was she doing? She probably thought he was dead. He remembered their last conversation, on the phone. Bits of it anyway. He thought he was going to die, he really did.

_I'm in a really beautiful place- I wish you were here with me._

He ran a hand down his face. He was alive. It was a fact too overwhelming to deal with.

Alex. That girl.

He shook his head and sighed.

He looked up when a shadow fell over him.

It was a grand old man with only wisps of silver hair remaining on his nearly bald scalp, dressed in an immaculate grey suit though it was late summer, a crisp newspaper in his hands. He smiled at Archer and asked briskly, "Anyone sitting here?"

"Not at all," replied Archer, withdrawing his arm.

"Thank you," said the old man, making himself comfortable. He shook out the newspaper and started to read.

Archer stared at the lake a little more.

It was so quiet it almost made him uneasy. True, it had been months since he left Sierra Leone, but part of him was still living it. He still expected to hear a bomb go off somewhere, or gunshots, screaming people, rumbling cars- but not here in London. Not in Hyde Park anyway.

The man turned a page delicately, as if the newspaper would shatter into a thousand pieces if he were not more careful. Archer leaned forward a bit to read the headline. Russian apartment bombings. That didn't sound too nice, but it was nothing he had never seen before. If you can survive Africa, you can survive anything.

Moving down the page were reports on earthquakes, and interest rates, and he froze.

CONFLICT DIAMONDS: THE TRUTH

And under that was his picture.

His _picture_.

Fuck.

The old man caught him staring and said, "Tragic, aren't they? The Russian bombings."

"Yes," he replied. "Yes."

Then he whipped out his sunglasses and hastily put them on.

"Goodbye," he nodded to the old man.

He smiled back and waved. "Have a nice day."

Archer nodded, distracted. "I will."

-------------

"Where the fuck were you? I waited fifteen minutes outside the school like an idiot."

"It's out," he said calmly, his back to her.

"What's out? Jesus, my day was a complete nightmare. I forgot what bitches Brits can be," she ranted, dropping her bag and sketchbook on the floor.

"Alex, I was in headlines today."

She stopped in her tracks. "_What_?"

"There was an article about blood diamonds on the front page today," he said. He picked up the copy he bought on the way back and tossed it to her.

Alex furrowed her brow. "Which newspaper is that? _The Guardian_?"

He watched her as she read the article silently.

"What the _fuck_?" she exploded suddenly. "What moron wrote this? Was it Maddy? I thought she works for an American newspaper."

"She could've sold the story."

Alex threw her hands up. "Did she even _ask _if you want to go on the newspapers?"

"Well, I did agree to go on record," he admitted.

Alex let out a sound which conveyed just how stupid she thought he was. "What the fuck were you_ thinking_?"

"I thought I was going to die, okay?" he answered snappishly.

She crossed the floor in a few angry strides and practically slapped him across the face with the newspaper. "Oh yeah? Well congratulations, now you're getting your fucking wish. Either van de Kaap sues your pants off or even better you get deported back to Africa where you'll be shot for smuggling. Smooth, Archer, very smooth."

Archer snatched the paper away from her. "What was I supposed to do, huh?"

"I don't know, maybe decide not to expose the evil workings of the largest diamond firm in the world _on the record_?"

"I needed her help, okay?"

"No, it's not okay, it's actually pretty screwed up right now. If anyone finds out you're alive you're fucked. Like, completely." Alex pressed a palm to her throbbing head and closed her eyes. "Why didn't I let you die in the first place?"

Archer gritted his teeth. "Well I didn't _ask_ to be saved, did I?"

Alex glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said curtly.

"You know what, you're pretty rude considering the fact that I brought you back from the dead," she sniped, crossing her arms angrily.

"What am I supposed to do then? Bow down and kiss your feet?" he spat.

Archer should have seen it coming. He winced at his smarting cheek.

"Fuck you!" she shouted then turned and stalked away. He heard a door slam a few seconds later.

Archer sat for a while before picking up the crumpled newspaper from the floor, staring at his picture and sighed.

What a mess.

Five minutes later (he knew because he had been staring at the clock rather absentmindedly), a door was flung open and the sound of high heels echoed in the empty house.

Archer turned around to find Alex in a short red dress and black tights, struggling to get a leather jacket on.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trying to keep his tone as light as possible. He actually wanted to strangle her, for some reason he could not explain. He was really, really pissed off.

She flipped her hair and didn't even look at him. "This guy asked me out this morning, I turned him down because I thought we'd order pizza and watch Friends, but I changed my mind."

Archer frowned and stood up, his hands moving to their own accord in a kind of helpless annoyance. "Look, Alex, I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing, okay?"

"No."

"It's just that I'm- I don't know- confused. I just don't know what to do, okay?" he said, looking away.

Neither moved for a while, then he looked up and found her staring at the floor.

Then she lifted her chin up and turned around, slamming the door behind her.

Archer suddenly reached for the newspaper and tore it up angrily.

Fuck it.

I never realised how easy it is to write fight scenes between Alex and Archer till I did it in record time. Those two are destined to fight, really. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!


	9. Faces

Chapter 9: Faces

She didn't talk to him for two days. Two whole days. He didn't try to talk to her. Fucking hell if she wanted to act like a five-year-old, he was happy to play along.

He had no clue what she was still angry about. Maybe at his rather rude comment that night, but seriously, how long does it take to get over a couple of words?

Well, a couple of days, he supposed. She _was_ a girl after all.

He knew she had forgiven him (or in the least, chosen to forget what he had said) when he came out of the shower on Saturday afternoon to find a letter on the coffee table.

It cordially invited him to attend the Central Saint Martins Freshers' Ball 1999, and also in the envelope was a business card. He flipped it over. Apparently, he had an appointment with Gucci in half an hour, and another at Selfridges Men's Salon three quarters of an hour after that, which would leave him fifteen minutes to get to the Ritz Hotel.

He got moving. Something told him that Miss Devereaux would not be very pleased if he was late.

-------------

Alex slid out of the cab and smiled at the bellboy who had opened the door for her. She carefully made her way up to the Ritz's entrance, she didn't really want to fall flat on her face- she could tell she was about to do just that. Her brand new five-inch Christian Louboutin slingbacks were not exactly comfortable, or sturdy for that matter. But she lifted her chin up and smiled anyway, she felt beautiful tonight and fuck it, nothing could upset her.

She walked into the lobby and almost grimaced.

Except one thing.

Well, one person.

"Alexis," cooed the said person, making his way over to her.

She forced a smile and said, "Ben, what are you doing here?"

Benjamin Cooper flashed her his million dollar (literally) smile and replied, "I was invited to the Saint Martins ball."

Alex suppressed the urge to walk over to a wall and bang her head on it. She could not imagine being stuck in a ball with Ben Cooper for one whole night. She'd rather jump off a building. Or better yet, push him off one.

"Oh, I thought you're a lawyer though," she said.

"I still am, but they invited my dad to talk to the students, and he thought it's a good chance for us to bond," replied Ben, shrugging his broad shoulders encased by a finely cut suit. "Things haven't exactly been hunky-doory between us. Anyway, how is Mr Devereaux? I still owe him lots for making me the man I am today."

Alex rolled her eyes. "He's fine, I think. I last talked to him three months ago."

Ben grinned. Alex mused that quite a few girls would fall for that, but heck, not her, thank you very much.

"I've always liked how independent you are," he declared. "Anyway, what are you here for?"

"Same. I just started painting at Saint Martins."

Ben's eyebrows shot up. "Really? The last time I heard you were at Harvard reading law."

"I dropped out," she said curtly.

"What a shame, you've always been such an intelligent woman."

Alex looked around impatiently. Where the fuck was Archer when she needed him?

"So where do you live now?"

"It's none of your business," she snapped. The last thing she wanted was for him to know where she lived.

"Well, my flat's in Chelsea, if you need anything, you can always call me up," hinted Ben none too subtly, reaching into his wallet for a business card. "Here."

"Cool," she deadpanned, tucking the card into her clutch. "Well, it was nice talking to you Ben, but I must run."

Without waiting for him to answer, she spun around and walked away.

But she didn't get too far before she walked into something solid.

"What the fuck-" she looked up and one corner of her mouth tugged upwards without her noticing.

"Like what you see?" asked Archer, raising an eyebrow at her smile.

"You're late," she tossed back loftily.

He made a show of tugging up the sleeve of his black suit to look at his battered electronic watch. "I don't think so. _Au contraire_, I am five minutes early."

"And who is this friend of yours, Alexis?"

Alex made a face, and Archer grinned.

He stretched out his hand and said smoothly. "Daniel Hughes."

"Benjamin Cooper, a pleasure," replied Ben unperturbedly.

"Likewise," replied Archer coolly. "Shall we go, Alex? I thought you wanted to introduce me to your friends."

Alex grabbed his arms and would have sprinted away, if her shoes had allowed. "Definitely. See you around."

When they were out of earshot, Archer threw back his head and laughed.

Alex took the chance to appreciate how well the elegant black suit fit him, and how different he looked with his hair slicked back properly. And that laugh. She hadn't heard one from him like that for a while.

"Someone has a crush on you," he teased.

"Please, leave me alone," she groaned. "That excuse of a man has been trying to get into my pants since kindergarten." She dismissed the topic with a unconcerned wave. "So, Mr _Hughes_, do you have something to confess?"

He haughtily arched an eyebrow and pretended to think very hard. Then he goofily clicked his fingers and Alex could literally see the imaginary bulb light up. "I must confess that you look lovely tonight."

Alex rolled her eyes, trying to keep a straight face. "I always do."

He nodded solemnly. "True."

They had reached the ballroom, which was bustling with cocktails, a live band and hoards of Saint Martinians.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up. "What?"

"I said I'm sorry," repeated Archer, tucking his hands into his pants' pockets, looking at her seriously. "I'm sorry if I was rude. I didn't mean to."

Alex shrugged offhandedly. "That's okay."

Archer looked surprised. "That's okay? That's it?"

"Well, yeah."

"You didn't talk to me for two whole days," he pointed out.

Alex gave him a cheeky smile. "It should teach you to never offend me again."

Archer grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I've learnt my lesson, I'll have you know."

Alex felt a flush rising from her chest, but brushed it aside and snorted, wriggling out of his grasp. "Come on, let's find our table. I'm in the mood for some fine wine."

Her mood for some fine wine was totally spoilt and replaced with the urge to punch a certain bitch's face when they finally found their table somewhere in the middle of the ballroom.

Emma Mandelson squealed and leapt to her feet, rushing over to kiss Alex on both cheeks when she saw her. "Muah! Alex! I'm so glad you made it! Oh my, is that Valentino? I was going with Valentino too, you know, the black one?"

"There are about seventy black Valentino gowns," injected Alex tonelessly, grabbing two glasses and started filling them with red wine.

"Yeah, you know, _that_ one," said Emma earnestly. "But I changed my mind just an hour ago, and I popped by Chanel and they picked out this for me!" She actually turned around to let Alex admire her dress, which was literally a wisp of pink tulle that barely covered her ass. "But I have to say you've always been the adventurous one, Alex. I would _never_ have dared to wear that dress."

In other words, she thought her dress was ugly.

Alex took a sip from her glass and looked down at her one-shouldered Valentino number. It was divided along the waistline into two clashing blocks of chartreuse green and bold purple, ending at her knees. It looked amazing on her, thank you very much. She put a big fake smile on her face to match Emma's.

"Gee, thanks, Ems, you know me _so_ well," she gushed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

In short, she could go fuck herself.

"Well, _duh_," she giggled. "So, have you finally found yourself a boyfriend, Alex?" she asked, giving Archer a flirty eye.

"Emma, this is my _friend_, Daniel," said Alex pointedly. "And Daniel, this is Emma, we used to go to boarding school together. We are _very_ close, aren't we?"

Emma giggled. "I _knew_ you two weren't dating. Alex can never seem to find anyone right for her, am I right?"

Archer arced an eyebrow, amused. "Is that true?"

"Oh yes!" cried Jemma excitedly. "For our graduation ball, Alex had to go with her gay friend from the boys' school next door because nobody else would take her!" She proceeded to laugh as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

"Good old memories," deadpanned Alex. Then she turned to the nerd in thick glasses who had been silent all through the conversation, offering a smile. "Hi there, I'm Alex. You must be Emma's boyfriend?"

His mouth literally hit the floor, and Emma shrieked in disgust. Archer gave her a sly grin which seemed to say "_nice one_".

She winked and swallowed the rest of her wine.

Two spots of red appeared on Emma's heavily powdered cheeks. "No! Ew! My boyfriend is over _there_."

Alex looked up and laughed to see Ben approaching.

"_You_ and Ben Cooper?" she asked.

Emma blinked. "How do you know Ben?"

"Old friends," she said simply. "What a coincidence, Ben!"

He looked at her questioningly. "What is a coincidence?"

"Me and Emma went to boarding school together."

"Really? My two favourite girls already know each other?" he grinned.

Alex could have gagged, but restrained herself when she spotted someone familiar moving up to them.

Her face lit up. "Uncle Liam!"

Liam Cooper chuckled and hugged her. "Alexis! Fancy seeing you here!" She pulled back and grinned. "Still lovely as ever. How are you, my dear?"

"Good," she smiled genuinely. "How is Auntie Ellen? Is she well?"

"Very well, thank you," he replied in his booming voice. "I am sure she misses your company as much as I do. When will you come to visit us?"

"Well, I'm in London now, so I think I can always come down to Cornwall," she said thoughtfully.

"Excellent, excellent. How's old dad?"

"Oh, I haven't talked to him for a while, but I think he's okay."

Liam did not look surprised. "Is he still in New York?"

"Most of the time, but I think he flies between Australia and France quite often now."

He smiled. "Good, good. That old devil needs to be kept busy to keep out of trouble eh?"

Ben cleared his throat and cut in. "Dad, you remember Emma, my girlfriend. I told you about her on the phone."

Alex watched as Emma puffed up her chest like a pigeon, breathing, "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, sir."

"Emma, of course," said Liam warmly. Then he turned to Archer, who had been very quiet in the course of the last few minutes. "And you sir?"

"My friend, Daniel Hughes," answered Alex happily. "I met him on one of my trips this summer. You remember Dominic? He went with me."

Liam was strangely subdued when he shook Archer's hand. "Certainly, certainly. Mr Hughes, pleasure."

"Likewise, sir," answered Archer quietly. If Alex had been a bit less excited, she would have noticed his unease.

Just then, the lights dimmed and the music faded out to something classical, most likely Beethoven, and Liam smiled at them.

"My cue to leave, I think," he joked. "Have a nice time, children. And behave!"

"We will," chirped Alex cheerfully.

Alex downed a bit more wine as the Masters of Ceremony talked crap about welcoming everyone and some more shit like that. And when she thought they would finally shut up and announce that dinner was ready, one of the M.C.s said, "Tonight, we are deeply honoured to have four distinguished guests with us to give us a few words of wisdom for us to chew on throughout dinner. Please welcome Mr Jean Paul Gaultier, prominent fashion designer; Mr Avery Leaper, noted fashion photographer; Mr Liam Cooper, creative director of van de Kaap-"

Alex froze. Van de Kaap?

She looked sharply at Archer, who had gone as still as death.

"-and last but not least, award-winning journalist, Maddy Bowen."

-------------

Archer stared at her. Her brown curls, her green eyes, her red lips.

Maddy.

He did not know whether to run to her or to run away. He couldn't move. He could feel Alex's eyes on him, but he couldn't look away.

It was her. There. Right there.

Slowly, he stood up.

And she saw him. Eye on eye.

And _he_ saw him.

The old man in the park. Archer knew he remembered him.

So he turned and ran, out of the ballroom.

He heard high heels clicking behind him.

Alex.

Archer put his head down and walked quickly towards the lobby.

"Archer!"

"Archer?"

"Mr Hughes."

Archer stopped.

He turned around.

He saw Alex first, her face twisted in uncharacteristic nervousness.

Then Maddy, who looked as if she had seen a ghost.

He took a step towards her, then stopped.

"Archer? Danny?" she whispered.

Then he looked at Mr Cooper.

He stared back unsmilingly.

"I think we haven't been properly introduced, have we, Mr Archer?"

Fuck.

What a mess.

My favourite chapter thus far, the plot is definitely thickening. Thank you so much for the reviews guys! And all of you who put this story on alert, I'm flattered :]


	10. Before The Storm

Chapter 10: Before The Storm

Alex strode out of Starbucks purposefully, an iced mocha in one hand and the other in her loose jeans' pocket.

Her oversized aviators with turquoise frames shielded her unsightly dark-ringed eyes from the sun. She slept a grand total of three fucking hours in the last two nights and she woke up that morning looking like a panda from China.

It was not funny at all.

And she could not believe what had happened.

Uncle Liam was the creative director of Van der Kaap, and his company was going to sue Archer.

"I'm sorry, Alex," he had said gravely. "I know he's your friend but I have to do this."

Archer was fucked. Big time.

And the worst thing? He didn't seem to care. They had gone to a conference room at the hotel after the rather dramatic standoff in the lobby, and Archer just kept staring at Maddy Bowen as if his eyes were super-glued to her fucking face the whole way through.

She wouldn't have been surprised if he jumped out of his chair and started having wild animal sex with Maddy right on the table.

Well, at least she could be grateful that he still had a shred of self-control in him.

Stopping at a light, she angrily pulled out a cigarette and fished around for her pocket for a lighter, but her fingers met nothing but cloth. Fuck, she must have left it at home.

The familiar clink drew her eyes to her right. It was a guy, more or less her age, grinning at her.

"May I offer you a light?" he asked.

Alex nodded and took it, taking a deep drag from her cigarette. "Cheers, mate."

"No problem," he answered. "Troubled?"

"I'm pretty pissed off right now," she said bluntly. "So fuck off, okay?"

His grin widened, and he ran a hand through his short spiky hair. "Can I have your number?"

"No."

"Can I give you mine?"

Alex glared at him. "Do I _look_ as if I'm interested?"

He chuckled, and pulled out a card from his leather jacket. "In case you are later."

She took the card and smoothly chucked it over her shoulder. "Oops. Looks like I won't be."

The lights turned green and she stalked off.

"The name's Seth!" he called after her.

She rolled her eyes.

-------------

Archer looked up when he heard the door slam.

"Hey," he offered, looking down again to butter his toast.

"Hey," replied Alex. He heard her kicking off her flip-flops before she flopped down on the couch.

He sniffed, the familiar stench of cigarettes hitting his nose. He arched an eyebrow and asked, "Started smoking again, huh?"

"I'm stressed," she snapped. "No thanks to you."

Archer sighed and turned around to put the butter away, biting into his toast. "I'm sorry I blew it, okay?"

She returned flatly, "I'm sorry I dragged you along to the ball."

He shoved his empty hand into a pocket and said ruefully, "I'm sorry I ruined your night."

"Oh shut up," she snorted, crossing her arms moodily. "'I'm sorry' doesn't really help anymore, does it?"

"No," he conceded, leaning on the counter, chewing thoughtfully. "All we can do now is wait for the axe to fall."

"You're scarily calm about the whole thing," she commented lightly.

He looked up at her and shrugged noncommittally. She thought he was calm about the whole thing? Maybe she wasn't as smart as he gave her credit for.

"I've always walked the line," he said vaguely.

"Hmm, someone's poetic today," smirked Alex.

Archer grinned. "Can I fix you a sandwich?"

"What time is it?"

"Quarter to six."

"I'd rather not then," Alex decided. "I'm going out tonight to a fancy French restaurant."

The corner of his mouth lifted itself. "Got a date?"

Alex flipped her hair in her in an amusingly snobbish way. "Why do you care?"

"What makes you think I care, huh?" he shot back.

"You asked," she pointed out.

Archer finished off the last of his toast and brushed off the crumbs, and suddenly recalled a certain comment made by her high school friend. "Was Emma lying about the graduation ball?"

Alex groaned, drawing her legs up and held her knees to her chest. "Let's just say I'm a late bloomer, okay?"

He chuckled and moved to sit on the unoccupied end of the couch. "That's hard to believe."

"I'm pretty sure I've destroyed all photographic evidence of me as a teenager," she said, half jokingly.

"It was that bad?" teased Archer.

"Imagine me with thick round glasses, braces, greasy hair, horrid skin and twenty pounds fatter, all at the same time," she said, counting off her fingers.

He winced. "Ouch."

Alex chucked a cushion at him, which he caught nimbly with a grin. "Shut the fuck up. I bet you went through the ugly phase."

He waved that comment away like it was an annoying fly. "For your information, I've always looked this good."

Alex snorted. "Yeah right. Sorry to burst your bubble, but you aren't even that good-looking."

Archer grinned. "Oh yeah? Then why were you all over me the first time we met, huh?"

"I slipped!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in emphasis. "What, you think I crashed into you on purpose?"

"Wouldn't be the first time a lady pulled that little trick," he joked with a wink.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Oh come _on_, did I look that desperate?"

"Actually, you did," he answered solemnly. He watched her trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

"Ri-ight," she dragged the word out, veiling her uncertainty with her natural sarcasm. Archer was getting used to it. "I know how the male mind works. When you don't get laid for a while, you start thinking anything with two legs who vaguely looks your way is interested, right?"

Archer blinked. "Well, you fell _on_ me, so that's a rather different case, huh?"

"To tell the truth, it would seem that Bowen was way more desperate than me," she said flatly.

He stilled.

They hadn't really discussed Maddy's presence - Alex didn't seem too enthusiastic about the matter at all. Maddy was staying at a hotel in Russell Square, and she was not leaving for a while- for his sake or her own, she did not say nor could he tell.

Realising that he had not replied, he quickly said, "Each to their own, huh?"

Alex bit her lips, staring into space rather distractedly.

"Funny she happened to be here as well. Amazing timing," she said conversationally.

"I know, it's unbelievable, isn't it?" he nodded.

"Did she mention anything about the diamond at all?"

"Solomon sold it, and left the country. She's trying to track him down to get my money back."

Alex moved her head so that she was resting her cheek on her knees to look at him. "How much did he sell it for?"

"If Van der Kaap kept their promise, two million pounds."

There was dead silence.

"Fucking hell," said Alex eventually.

He laughed lightly. "That's why I was ready to die for that stone."

"You'll be rich when you get that money then."

"I'll pay you back, I swear," he said earnestly.

Alex actually looked puzzled. "Pay me back? For what?"

"Well, everything," he answered, flexing his wrist.

She made a sound. "Don't worry about it."

"I have to," he insisted.

"Come _on_, Archer. I helped you because I wanted to. I told you I don't want anything from you," she said, her tone more grown-up than it usually was. "I don't want to go over that again, so shut up."

He shook his head, stretching his legs to rest them on the coffee table, staring straight into her brown eyes. "I don't get you, I just don't."

She gave him a crooked smile. "You're not supposed to."

----------

Alex was giving her eyelashes a final swipe of mascara when Archer knocked on her door.

"What?" she yelled, attempting to curl the edge of her lashes a bit more, but gave up when they made it perfectly clear that they would not yield.

She saw him stick his head in and did a double take.

"I thought you were going to a fancy restaurant?" he asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, swiveling around in her chair while capping her mascara tube.

Archer took a long look at her choice of attire. "Uh, nothing."

Alex smirked. She stood, reaching for her beloved distressed leather jacket and shrugged it on, then grabbed her wayfarers and clipped them onto the front of her dress.

"Relax," she said. "I'm going clubbing, okay?"

"You lied to me!" he quipped, faking an indignant face.

"Change of plans," she tossed back, shaking her hair out to detangle her waves. She snatched her well-worn clutch and stuffed it with a girl's basic necessities.

"You and your partying ways," sighed Archer with the air of a helpless mother.

"Hey, I'm still young, unlike you," she teased, snapping her clutch shut with a flourish. "I'm off. Don't stay up, I have keys."

Archer opened the door for her, and said sternly as she walked pass. "No kissing on a first date, huh?"

She stopped in her tracks and feigned a pretty pout, whining, "But why? I like to get kissed before I get fucked."

He threw back his head and laughed, drawing a smile from her.

"I'm guessing Maddy told you that, huh?" he grinned.

Alex shrugged. "I guess you and I have more in common than it seems."

Then, completely out of the blue, Archer leaned in and kissed her just a bit below the corner of her left eye, throwing her off guard.

"Have fun," he smiled and walked off to his own room.

Alex stood there for a moment or two, blinking.

Then she snapped out of it and dashed out of the apartment with a silly grin on her face.

"- essentially, it is the composition of the portrait that makes this piece of art-"

Alex practically jumped out of her chair when her cell phone blared out Guns N Roses, and the professor immediately whipped around to glare at her.

"Sorry," she mouthed, digging into her jeans' pockets and pulled her cell out. She looked at the screen and grimaced. Fuck.

Running out of the lecture hall, she took a deep breath and pressed the green button.

"Hello?"

"What is this I am reading about an alleged diamond smuggler who has illegally entered England and is staying with my _daughter_ in _my_ flat in Sloane Square?"

"Hi dad," she deadpanned.

"Alexis Catherine Devereaux-McLean, just what the hell do you think you are doing?" asked Vince McLean, his voice deep and steady as always. But she could tell he was beyond pissed- he only called her by her full name when he was really angry.

"It's a long story," she answered calmly.

"And when were you planning to tell me about this? I hadn't an inkling of what was going on until Liam called me this morning. I had no idea you were in London. Not even your mother knew."

"Well, yeah, I have art school," she said briefly, knowing he would not be interested. And duh, of course her mother had no idea. She was in some remote little French village, training horses with her fourth husband and counting.

"What about this friend of yours? A thirty-one year old Zimbabwean white man? What are you doing, Alexis?"

"Look, dad, I know what I'm doing."

"You _know_ what you're doing? That man is a criminal!"

"You don't know him!" she fiercely argued, overwhelmed by a rather strange sense of protectiveness.

Vince went quiet for a moment or two, then asked coolly, "Do you?"

"It's none of your fucking business," she snapped.

"Watch your language, young lady."

"Bite me," she retorted.

She could literally hear him counting to ten in his head. "And what do you intend to do? Liam made it quite clear that Van der Kaap won't rest till he's behind bars."

"Oh, I think Van der Kaap have their own ass to look out for," she tossed back haughtily.

Vince sighed heavily. Alex loved how helpless she made her father felt sometimes.

"Make sure you don't do anything stupid," he said at last, and hung up.

Alex slipped the phone back into her jeans, and said smugly to herself, "I won't."

-------------

"_What_?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't even tell me you took him to London with you!"

"Well, I've been up to my eyeballs with work. Excuse me for not giving you a long-distance call just to let you know I am cohabiting with the once half-dead diamond smuggler we picked up in Sierra Leone."

"Alex, will you get angry if I ask you something?"

"Depends," she sniffed testily.

"Why are you doing this for him?"

Alex sighed. "I fucking saved his ass, just thought I'd go all the way."

"I thought you were in love with him?"

"I wasn't. And I'm not."

Geez, she was a fantastic liar.

"Oh."

"Oh," she echoed mockingly.

"Sometimes I forget how much of a bitch you are."

That made her grin. "Love you too, Dom."

-------------

Alex was mixing a curious colour of sick bluish-green when Archer came back. She looked up and blinked at his sweaty mop of sandy hair and the white vest which clung to his tanned body, nearly translucent in perspiration, with which he wore black running shorts.

She took a deep breath.

"Hey," he said simply, his breathing still a bit quick. "Had a good day?"

"Yeah," she said lightly, dabbing a bit more blue with the brush and mixed it in. "Dad called and dissed me for letting you staying here."

Archer had found a bottle of orange juice from the fridge, which was now fixed to his lips as he drank thirstily. He arched an eyebrow at her comment.

"And apparently, Uncle Liam is almost ready to sue you."

He sighed and put the bottle down on the counter without putting the cap back on. "Fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll find you a good lawyer," she replied, dragging the brush across the canvas.

"Alex, you don't have to do this," he said, an apologetic edge to his voice.

She turned away from her painting to look his straight in the eye. "What did I say about not wanting to go over this again?"

Archer shrugged. "It just feels strange, you know."

Alex cocked her head to one side. "Strange that I should be taking care of you?"

A small smile curled his lips. "Taking care of me, huh? Hmm, yes, that sounds right."

She mirrored his smile, putting her brush down on the little art trolley beside the stand, and walked towards him.

She nearly seized up when she got within two feet of him. Was it just her or did his eyes got bluer today?

"Look," she said seriously, fighting to meet his eyes. "Let's just talk about this once and for all, yeah?"

"Serious talk," he said teasingly, but nodded.

"You're a good guy," she said slowly, ignoring his incredulous snort. "No, seriously, I think you're a good guy. I mean, what you did for Solomon and his son was really- good, selfless, something to that effect. I don't think I could've done that. I would've jumped on that plane myself with the diamond. But you didn't. You see what I mean?"

She had dropped her gaze somewhere along her little speech, and her eyes found her painted black toe nails, and she glued them there. She felt her cheeks flush and felt stupid.

"I like you," she blurted out, then in a panic, she quickly amended herself. "Not in _that _way, of course." _Lie_. "I just think you're a good person and I admire that. That's all." _Lie_. "Honestly." _Lie._

She just stood there, hanging her head, feeling like a blooming idiot as she waited for his response.

"Hey."

She looked up and saw him grin.

"Thanks Alex, that meant a lot. I mean, thank you. Really. Thank you. For everything."

And it would've been a beautiful moment right there and then, the two of them smiling at each other in the kitchen, brown eyes on blue. But of course, Alex wasn't one for beautiful moments. And neither was Archer.

He broke the silence first, his tone grave. "I have something to confess which might make you think otherwise of me."

Alex gave him a suspicious eye. "What? Are you telling me you're a pimp too?"

Archer chuckled. "It's a bit more legal than that."

"Well?" she probed.

"Some guy called you earlier this afternoon," he said, the beginnings of a grin tugging at his lips.

"Who?"

He was grinning widely now. "Benjamin Cooper."

Alex frowned. "What did that bastard want?"

"He nearly got a heart attack when he heard my voice."

She snorted. "I'm not surprised. That wanker is a downright mouse. Did he say why he called?"

"He wanted to 'talk', apparently."

"What did you say?"

"I told him to fuck off," said Archer proudly.

Alex grinned. "I would've done the same."

He winked. "I know."

-------------

I hope this was worth the wait. A sort of interlude as the story reaches its 10th chapter. I don't really have any ideas yet for the next few chapters, but since now my only job is to read, write and try not to die of boredom, I should have enough time to come up with something… fingers crossed! Thanks for the wonderful reviews for the last chapter, this is for you!


	11. Thursdays

Chapter 11: Thursdays

"What do you mean you won't take the case?"

The lawyer had the grace to look flustered. "For the reasons I have just stated, Miss Devereaux. It is our firm's policy-"

Alex snorted with disdain. "Oh, so you'll defend serial murderers and pedophiles but not a smuggler who saved a man and his whole family? Not to mention the fact that he had a major part to play in bringing to light Van der Kaap's exploitative work ethos?"

"Listen, Miss Devereaux-"

"You know what? If you don't want my money, I'll go somewhere else." She shot him her best glare.

"No one will take your case, Miss Devereaux," said the lawyer, a small smirk on his lips.

"Wanna bet on that, dickhead?" she snapped, standing up abruptly.

He almost grimaced. "It's Van de Kaap we're talking about, if they want to crush your friend, they will. It's best we don't get involved."

She gave him a frosty smile. "Whatever, I've had enough of your bullshit anyway. Have a nice day. Actually, don't. I hope you trip over and get your buck teeth knocked out."

Alex stalked out of the law firm, feeling a tad better after her childish outburst. Well, she was entitled to _any_ outburst. She had been to all the law firms she knew, and not one would take Archer's case.

"Fuck it," she said loudly, earning a disapproving glare from a passer-by. It was an exceptionally bright day, ironically. Alex paused to put her sunglasses on, then whipped out a fag and lit it, taking a deep drag.

She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, her heels giving her something of a bird's eye view of the swarming lunch crowd. A woman rudely shoved past her and she glowered at the back of her head.

Suddenly, she felt rather… small.

And she didn't like it.

She started walking, dragging her feet, her arms crossed protectively across her chest. For the first time in her life, she didn't get what she wanted. She knew from the moment that she hauled Archer onto the plane that it would not be easy, but it had not really hit home until now.

But it _was_ so easy, just him and her. She'd actually been _happy_, going home every day, not to an empty house, but to _him._ Him watching the telly, or cooking, or doing something homely you'd think he wouldn't be caught dead doing.

Alex's hand shook a bit when she brought the cigarette up to her lips again. What was she _doing_? She should've known this would happen. She was falling, and there was no sign of reaching the bottom yet. Not by a long shot.

The worst thing was she knew that he was in love with someone else. She knew but she threw herself into this mess anyway. Now that Maddy Bowen had reappeared, she didn't stand a chance.

Wonderful. Abso-fucking-lutely wonderful.

Maybe it was time she got herself a boyfriend. Or a toyboy of some sort. At least that would stop her from ogling at his bare chest every time he got out of a shower.

Lost in thought, she didn't realise she was halfway out on a busy road till someone pulled her back.

Alex shrieked as a taxi raced by, missing her by inches, the driver sticking up his middle finger at her.

"Are you okay?"

Still in a daze, she looked up and blinked.

Her first instinct was to swear, but she stopped and smiled instead. If she wanted a toyboyfriend, she might have to start being nice. And this guy was definitely toyboyfriend material.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," she said, biting her lip shyly for good measure. "Thanks for bringing me back from the dead. I was- distracted."

He grinned, the corners of his green eyes crinkling merrily. "I could tell. It's very hard to miss traffic like that."

"I'm usually a bit more pulled together," she joked. "I'm Alex, by the way."

He held his hand out politely. "The name's Seth."

Alex paused, her arm half-raised pensively. _The name's Seth_… Jesus Christ.

"You're the guy who chatted me up outside Starbucks!" snapped Alex, snatching her hand back, and threw it upwards in disbelief. "For fuck's sake, of all the freaking male population in London…"

Seth pretended to look surprised. "Did I chat you up?"

Alex crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't act dumb, buddy. You obviously remember me."

"Ah yes, you're the girl who littered just to let me know you weren't interested," he teased, flashing her an easy grin. "How could I forget?"

"Are you stalking me?" she demanded, and started to cross the road as the green man came on.

"I'd never dream of it," he said, falling in step with her. "So, you free on Saturday night?"

"I don't go out with strangers," she replied brusquely, fishing for her packet of cigarettes. She had dropped her half-smoked cigarette when Seth rescued her.

"We're not strangers," he insisted, feigning hurt in his voice. He trotted forward and turned around so that he was facing her, walking backwards. "C'mon, give a guy a chance?"

"No."

"You were coming onto me, admit it, sweetheart."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Do me a favour and sod off, will you?"

Seth spread out his arms and stopped suddenly, and she nearly bumped into him. He gave her a lopsided smile and said pleadingly, "One date? After all, I saved your life back there."

Her lips twitched as she looked into his puppy eyes. It was not every day she was practically chased after by a guy, and he did indeed save her life.

Plus, she needed to take her mind off Archer.

She made a great show of huffing and puffing then said, "Fine. _One_ date."

He grinned as if she just told him that Santa Claus was coming to town.

"Saturday, at nine, I'll pick you up at Camden tube station, okay?"

She arched an eyebrow. "_Camden_?"

"It'll be fun, I promise," he said excitedly. "And wear something you can jump in."

Before she could say anything else, he winked and jogged off into the lunch crowd.

Alex smiled at Seth's retreating back. He was actually kind of cute.

--------------------------

It was a Thursday.

On Thursdays, Alex did not have lectures till two in the afternoon. She slept in while Archer got up at half past eight to do his routine jog round Hyde Park. His lungs had patched up quite well, and he could do easy jogging for an hour before he called it a day. At around ten thirty, he would be at the Waitrose around the corner to pick up groceries for the next couple of days.

On Thursdays, he always picked free range eggs, sausages with apple bits, bacon, fresh mushrooms and baked beans because that was what Alex liked for brunch.

This Thursday, he wandered along the seafood fridges and decided he should give Nigella's seafood casserole a go. If it went wrong they could always order Chinese takeaway. He swiveled the half empty cart down the baking aisle to pick up some pre-made brownie mix, then up the next one for Alex's favourite cereal with jumbo raisins. He also grabbed a few rolls of kitchen towels and washing powder since they ran out.

Archer was halfway through checkout when he realised that they might be out of onions. His hand went to the mobile phone in his pocket to ask, but stopped as he remembered that Alex would still be asleep.

He paid with the debit card Alex gave him, and punched in the pin. He still felt uneasy every time he spent money. _Her_ money. He had thought of getting a job, but without a work visa or any visa at all, it was a bit risky. The Brits were rather anal about things like that, he'd been told. Unlike Africa.

The girl at the cashier gave him a flirty smile and brushed his hand when she gave him the receipt. He simply nodded and gathered the bags. He would have to come back later to get onions, and maybe some red wine too.

Damn, and some milk too.

He was never good with grocery shopping.

The streets were quiet per usual at this time of the morning. The dogwalker, Tom, rambled by like he always did on Thursdays and weekends, and Archer raised a hand in greeting.

"The missus having a lie-in, eh?" called out Tom with a grin, struggling to keep his hold on the three Great Danes he was walking.

"Yeah, yeah," replied Archer vaguely. Well, not exactly, but Tom didn't need to know.

Paul the doorman opened the door for him as he finally walked through the doors of the Sloane Square Mansions.

"Mornin' Paul," said Archer.

"Morning, sir," replied Paul in his impeccable English accent. "Miss Devereaux left just ten minutes before."

Archer frowned. She didn't say she had anywhere to go.

"That's alright. Thanks for letting me know."

The apartment was indeed empty when he made his way in. He kicked off his shoes and tossed the keys onto the coffee table, then put all the bags onto the kitchen counter.

A pink post-it was on the refrigerator door, on it Alex had scribbled, "I'll be back for lunch."

So no brunch today. Ah well. He quickly emptied the plastic bags and put everything in their rightful places. He opened the fridge and made a face when the smell of sour milk hit him like a wall. Both of them were too lazy to chuck out expired food produce rotting in the fridge.

He grimaced when he realised it was also laundry day. Neither had a knack for cleanliness, but since Alex was of the female kind she did make more of an effort. They had someone to give the apartment a thorough cleaning every two weeks, but in between Alex did most of the tidying up while Archer made half-assed attempts to help, like throwing out the trash when they could no longer squeeze anything else into the abused trashcan.

Archer took a quick shower and like a good boy dumped all of his dirty clothes, which had been residing in a corner for the past week, into the washing machine. Scratching his back, he swaggered across the living room and stopped in front of Alex's door.

He blinked and wondered if he should go in and take her dirty laundry out.

It was not like he had not been inside her room before. Well, rarely, since they did almost everything in front of the TV. Their rooms were the only source of privacy they had.

They. _Us_.

Archer thought wryly that they made the most unlikely couple. Somehow they ended up in the same apartment in the middle of London, and had been living together for a little more than a month since he was discharged from medical attention.

A real fucked up charity case.

Archer never lived with anyone before. Hell he never even really _lived_ anywhere, not in one goddamn place anyway. Not since his 'rents died. Even during his mercenary days he moved from camp to camp and he never bothered making any friends. Who needed them, right? Then it was one dump to another dingy hotel room. In a back alley. Under a table in a bar. He woke up and he went. Alone.

And now? He was cohabiting with a girl too young for him, living off her, wondering if he should go into her room to get her dirty lingerie so he could start the fucking washing machine.

He was going insane. Or worse, he was going soft.

If he were anything like his old self, he would have taken off a long, long time ago. He never owed anyone anything. Well, sometimes he did, but he always ran off before they realised.

Why the fuck was he still here? Humdrum day-to-day routine wasn't for Danny Archer. Fuck no.

The shrill ring of the telephone jerked him from his thoughts, and he hurried to answer it.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other side, then a familiar voice. "Archer?"

"Hello Maddy."

--------------------------

They agreed to meet at the Starbucks near the Bond Street tube station.

Archer stood outside the glass windows for a moment, staring at Maddy, who sat comfortably in an armchair, perusing a magazine. It had been almost a fortnight since that night at the ball, and God knew how long since they said goodbye on the phone.

You know, when they both thought he was going to die.

Maddy looked up suddenly and stared straight at him, as if she knew he had been gazing at her all along. She grinned and Archer shuffled his feet, not quite sure how to act.

He strutted into the café, and hoped for the best.

--------------------------

"Alex!"

She didn't need to turn around to know who _that_ voice belonged to.

"What is it, asshole day?" she grumbled under her breath and kept walking.

"Alex, I need to talk to you!"

"I don't need to listen, sod off Ben!" she shot back, barging straight into the lift, hoping he wouldn't follow.

The stupid lift didn't close its doors fast enough, so Alex found herself stuck with Benjamin Cooper for the ride to the sixth floor.

Alex glared at her childhood friend, and he grinned.

"Why so hostile, my dear? I just want to help you out," he said condescendingly.

"With what?" she snapped.

The lift doors slid open with a ping and Alex made to exit.

"Danny Archer."

She stopped.

She could practically feel Ben's smug smirk on the back of her neck as he drawled, "I'll take the liberty to presume that you failed to find anyone willing to take the case."

"What's it to you?" she spun around with a vicious snarl.

"I can help you." He smiled serenely. "But first, I want some Earl Grey."

With that, he swept out of the lift.

Alex followed, marching past him to open the door.

"Don't make yourself at home," she sniped.

To her chagrin, Ben Cooper chuckled and proceeded to ignore her advice.

--------------------------

"You should have contacted me. If I knew, I would have held back the article."

Archer shrugged, looking at his sneakers as they trudged along.

He looked up and smiled into her eyes. "Does it matter now?"

"I don't know," admitted Maddy. "The what-ifs really bother me."

_What if he died?_

_What if he parted ways with Alex in Australia?_

_What if he went to Maddy instead?_

Then she brightened and said, "So, what have you been up to? Other than coming back from the dead and all that."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Not much, babysitting Alex takes up most of my time."

Maddy seemed to stand a bit straighter at the mention of Alex. She shoved her hands into her jeans' pockets and asked quietly, "Are you and Alex… in a relationship?"

The question literally threw Archer off his course. "No, no," he said quickly, too quickly. Shit. He really was losing his touch. "We're just very good friends."

He frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

Maddy just kept on walking.

"You wanna come up to the apartment for a sit? I can make us some lunch," he suggested, carefully keeping his tone light.

She turned, cocking her head to one side. "You cook?"

Archer arched an eyebrow and mirrored her movements. "Why, can't you?"

She laughed, and he smiled. "Why not?"

--------------------------

Alex stared at him, shell-shocked.

It wasn't a feeling that Alex liked.

When she finally managed to speak, she choked out, "Are you fucking _out of your mind_?"

Ben just smiled at her. "No."

"You're _fucking_ insane."

It was a statement, and Ben obviously took it as a compliment, judging from the wide grin on his face.

"Maybe, but that doesn't make me wrong. So, are you in?"

_So, are you in?_

What the fuck did he think this was, a game of tag?

She must have said it out loud, because Ben laughed noisily and shook his head. "Of course not, Alex. Nothing's a game when it comes to you."

"Well, it fucking sounds like one to me!" she yelled.

He actually had the nerve to lean forward and held her hand in his. "I'm the only one who can help- who _will_ help, Alex."

She knew he was right. Damnit.

She snatched her hand back and glowered at him.

"Sleep on it. I didn't expect an immediate answer," he said easily and got onto his feet. "But know that Van de Kaap will be making a move soon, and you need help. _He_ needs help."

She stubbornly stared straight ahead. "Get out."

Ben didn't even bat an eyelash. She hated to admit it, but he was probably the only man who could handle her taunts without losing his temper.

"I'll see myself out," he smiled and spun on his heel to leave.

She heard the door open, then, to her surprise, Archer's voice.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Mr. Archer, Miss Bowen-"

Alex twisted round so fast that she nearly pulled a muscle. Indeed, it was Mr. Archer and Miss Bowen.

She shot Archer a look, then turned to Maddy.

"Maddy," she said with a forced smile. "How are you? I didn't know you were coming up."

"I'm sorry if we caught you by surprise, but Archer offered to make lunch and I couldn't refuse," she replied apologetically.

Alex barely managed to catch herself before she could snort.

"We were just talking about you, Mr. Archer," Ben cut in smoothly.

Archer gave her a look, and she shrugged. He deadpanned, "Fascinating, I'm sure."

If she didn't know Ben as well as she (unfortunately) did, she would not have noticed Ben subtly sizing Archer up. His green eyes flickered to hers.

He knew what Archer was to her.

A sly smile tugged at one end of his lips. He made a show of checking the time, and said, "Well, I guess I'll run along now-"

The lift outside rumbled to a stop and Alex heard the sound of the doors opening, and heavy footsteps followed.

She gaped at the four policemen that showed up in her line of vision.

"Mr. Archer," said the one in front, staring straight at him. He took out a pair of handcuffs and drawled as if he would rather be doing something much more interesting than arresting someone. "You're under arrest for defamation and illegal entry into the country. You don't have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. We're taking you to the station now."

Alex was still in a daze when a second policeman turned to her.

"Miss Devereaux, you are arrested on counts of assisting Mr. Archer to enter the country illegally and passport forgery. You're coming with us too."

Alex barely had the time to squeak an indignant "What?" before the officer crumpled to the ground. It registered that it was Archer's mean right hook that had caught the officer's nose in a painful clash.

Alex was not sure who screamed, but suddenly all hell broke loose. Above Maddy's frantic attempts to subdue Archer and Ben's efforts to hold him back, he punched another officer before he was wrestled to the floor, his hands behind his back. He grimaced when the sound of handcuffs sliced the uneasy silence that had settled like a blanket.

Awkwardly, Alex gave the officer with the bleeding nose a tissue as Archer was brought roughly to his feet.

Their eyes met and she bit her lip.

"Uh, let's all go along for the ride?" she suggested hesitantly.

--------------------------

I realised that I like writing in short, broken sentences, and I think it suits the story. As suggested by a reviewer, this chapter delved deeper into Archer's thoughts, and I really enjoyed writing it. So the pieces are set in motion, and new people are coming into the picture. Hopefully the story will move quicker from now on. I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks very much for the wonderful reviews. I really appreciate them! I hope everyone is enjoying their summer as much as I am!


	12. Hurts Like A Bitch

Chapter 12: Hurts Like A Bitch

"I'm _not_ going anywhere! You can't make me!"

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned. "Alex, _please_, don't make a scene out of this."

She gritted her teeth and crossed her arms defensively, snarling, "_Me_? Why don't _you_ take a break from being an asshole for a minute?"

It was past eleven o'clock, and they were outside the room Archer had been cooped up in the last five hours. Alex had been waiting with Maddy in a dingy room down the corridor, which was bare apart from a reeking sofa and a small table on which perched six empty paper cups stained with coffee. She was out hunting for more caffeine when she bumped into Ben.

"Look, they won't be letting him go any time soon," he argued, looking pointedly at two overweight policemen stuffing their faces with doughnuts through a window on their left. "You're wasting time here."

"I _want_ to wait," she told him.

"Trust me love, you're better off not being seen with him here."

"But I'm his _friend_!"

Ben stared down at her sternly. "And you're lucky to have gone away with your name cleared of passport forgery. It could've been serious, Alex. It was stupid of you."

She huffed. "I did what I had to do. You don't understand, you don't know what happened."

"Well, you'll have to fill me in soon enough. I won't lie, Alex, this will be a hell of a case to fight. You'll have to trust me."

"In other words, I'll have to give you permission to boss me around," retorted Alex with a roll of her eyes.

She flinched when Ben brought a hand up to cup the side of her face, his green eyes trying to find hers as he said softly, "Do it for Archer, if not for me."

Something flared in her. Panic. Surprise. She looked away quickly and pushed his hand away as if it burned her. He knew. He knew she would do anything for Archer. _Anything_.

Ben smiled at her pleasantly, that bastard, and leant down to give her a peck on her cheek. He lingered by her ear and whispered, "I will win this case, Alex. I promise you that."

Alex put her hands on his shoulders, and shoved him backwards none too gently. She snapped, "That's the least you could do, your services don't exactly come cheap, do they?"

He had the gall to grin. "Go home, Alex. My driver's out front waiting for you."

She gave him the finger and walked away.

* * *

Archer narrowed his eyes when the door opened to let Benjamin Cooper in. He had seen the exchange outside just now from the gaps in the blinds, as if the dusty planes had been contorted one time too many by people spying by the window.

He did not like what he saw.

Ben closed the door behind him in a flourish. "Mr. Archer," he greeted briskly, his expensive shoes clicking on the dirty floor as he made his way to the table he was seated at.

"Benny boy," echoed Archer mockingly. "Are they gonna let me go anytime this year?"

"That, _Danny_," replied Ben pointedly as he sat down in the chair opposite Archer's. "Depends on how good your attorney is."

Archer smirked humourlessly. "So, how good are you?"

Cooper mirrored his smirk. "Very good, I assure you, Mr. Archer, very good indeed. In fact, I dare say that I am the best attorney you can get in a case like this."

He arched an eyebrow. "A case like this?"

"Oh, you know," said Ben vaguely, waving a hand about. "Diamonds, van de Kaap and the like."

Ah yes, Benjamin Cooper Senior.

"The 'pa must be pleased to know you're working against him," commented Archer with a cynical grin. He leaned forward and rested his palms on the table, his voice low. "Tell me, Cooper, why are you fighting this case? We both know it's not me you're trying to help."

The lawyer gave him a serene smile, and leaned back in his seat. "Let's just say I have some- _vested interest_ in this case."

Archer didn't like the smile. "What vested _interest_ might you be talkin' about?" he demanded.

The smile just got wider, and the answer was given in one simple, cryptic word.

"Alex."

* * *

It was almost four o'clock when he got back from the police station, and he felt like shit. He found the key to the door in one of Alex's boots, then quietly let himself into the apartment.

The TV was on, but muted, and on the couch was Alex, fast asleep.

Archer kicked his shoes off then walked across the hall to switch the TV off, plunging the flat into darkness. Turning to Alex's sleeping form, he was surprised to see that she was bundled in his duvet.

He just stared down at her for a while, his head bludgeoned by a dull headache and questions. Lots of questions.

Scooping Alex up, he made his way to his room, gently nudging the door open and stepped inside. He carefully put her on his bed, and upon contact with the soft surface she turned over to snuggle into one of the pillows. He spread the duvet out and tucked her in.

She sighed in her sleep, and it suddenly hit Archer that she smelled good. Good and clean.

He quickly took a shower, scrubbing himself clean of the shitty excuse of a day he just had. His eyes were heavy as he slipped into a pair of clean boxers while toweling his hair dry. Damned hair was still wet when he closed the door behind him, but the digital clock on his bedside table blinked, reminding him that it was way past bedtime.

He climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his bare chest. He was going to sleep with his back to Alex, but sensing his warmth, she had nestled in close to him, a hand coming up to rest on his stomach.

So he moved in closer too, wrapped an arm around her waist, and slept better than he had for a while.

* * *

Alex opened her eyes. Archer was sleeping on his side, one hand under his pillow.

She yawned and closed her eyes.

Then they snapped open again when the fact that they were in the same bed hit her like a wall of bricks.

She didn't know if she was blushing or not, but all of a sudden she became aware of the stifling warmth, the hand on her hip, her hand on his chest.

How, in the name of Christ, did she end up here?

Not that she didn't like it- hell no. It was the stuff of her fantasies. And that was the problem. It just wasn't exactly- what's the word?- ugh, it was too damned early- ah, yes, _platonic_.

Archer made it pretty clear that that was what they were all about. Their relationship was purely platonic. She saved his life, he took care of her, that was it. Besides, it wasn't like he was interested. He loved someone else.

She breathed out through her nose and, steeling herself, shifted towards him. Goddamnit, he wasn't wearing his usual vest on top, and he was so warm. She froze when he sighed, and a heavy leg fell on hers. Eyes wide, she stared at his face, scared that he would wake up to catch her gawking, but somehow her sleep-clouded mind would not let her look away.

It was so easy to forget all the crap that happened the day before now that she was here, her cheek resting on his shoulder, watching him sleep from underneath messy bangs that fell over her right eye. She hated to be clichéd, and her brain was working like a damned teenage romance novel right now, but he looked so peaceful in his sleep.

He had let down his guard around her from the sheer amount of time they spent together, but he always had an edge to him. As in the pulling-gun-from-backpocket kind of edge. She guessed Sierra Leone would always live in him, even though he was thousands of miles away.

It comforted her somehow that he slept alright at night.

She didn't want him to wake up yet. He really had to sleep off those dark circles under his eyes. And her selfish bit liked that she had him all to herself. There was no Maddy, no court case, no uncertain futures, no asshole Ben.

She hated real life.

Moving even closer, Alex curled up against his chest and closed her eyes, breathing out deeply. A hand snaked up her upper back and held her flush against him, his chin came to rest on the top of her head.

She smiled and let herself be lulled into sleep by the rise and fall of his chest.

There was a shrill ring of the telephone, the rumble of footsteps, and Alex's very loud and irritated voice.

"He's asleep. Call later." A pause. "I don't want to talk to you. Fuck off."

That'd be Ben Cooper on the other line then.

Then came a particular piercing screech. "Don't fucking call me that!"

Archer groaned and rolled over on his stomach. He cracked one eye opened and peered at the empty bed. The curtains were drawn, but the afternoon light cast the room in an orangey light.

It was almost three in the afternoon, so he sat up and swiveled to put his feet on the carpeted ground. Damn, he needed some water. He felt as dry as a crisp.

He shuffled out of his room in just his boxers after failing in his quest to find a clean shirt. Alex looked up from her perch by the kitchen counter with a small smile, then lapsed into a dark scowl before barking into the phone, "Look I'll call you later," and hung up.

"Hey," he rasped, a bit conscious of his state of undress.

Alex slurped on her juice and asked, "How ya feeling?"

He made a stop at the washing machine and pulled a face. He didn't have time to put the clothes in the dryer. Well, no time like the present, he supposed.

"A bit dry," he replied, busying himself with his task of transferring half-wet laundry into the drying machine. "Not too bad."

"What time did you get back?"

"'Bout four," he grunted, tossing a vest and some jeans to the side he planned to wear later.

"Sleep well?"

Which reminded him of the fact that they slept in the same bed last night.

He paused and looked up, but she wasn't looking at him. He turned and said, "Yeah. I, uh, hope you don't mind that-" He stopped abruptly. Fuck's sake, how did you go about asking if a girl too young for you if she minded that she slept next to you last night, a diamond smuggler currently on bail?

'Cause he didn't mind. Not at all.

Alex arched an eyebrow, setting her glass down to stare at him. She wasn't making this easy for him.

"Nevermind," he grumbled at long last, quickly finishing up his laundry duties. "I'm just gonna go put some clothes on."

Alex watched with a frown as he hurried away to his room. Well, someone obviously wasn't too pleased about last night's sleeping arrangements.

She hopped off the stool and tried hard to fight the hurt that was blooming in her chest.

"Excuse me for not being Maddy Bowen," she muttered under her breath and ran the glass under the tap.

She turned off the tap and grasped the edge of the counter, a little bit out of breath.

Then she realised with a panic that she wanted to cry.

"What the _fuck_," she growled angrily. She closed her eyes and pressed a firm hand to her forehead.

What was _wrong_ with her? Just because he carried her to his bed didn't mean anything. He probably did it just because she stole his duvet and he was too tired to make two trips. God, she felt so damn stupid. As if sleeping in the same bed would change anything.

She heard his door open, and the slap of his bare feet on the marble floor. She took a deep breath and went on about with finding some lunch from the fridge.

He seemed completely oblivious to her emotional turmoil, and stationed himself on a stool behind her. "Hungry?"

"Uh huh," she answered lightly. "Are you in the mood to whip up some lunch, or should we order curry?"

"Don't worry, I'll cook," he offered, while she was still stubbornly sticking her head in the fridge. "I stocked up at Waitrose yesterday, before- y'know."

"I could tell," she said, picking out the sausages and bacon. "It's never too late for a big breakfast."

She finally turned and he grinned. He looked so bloody good in jeans.

They worked in amicable silence, him readying the pots and pans and her cutting open the meat packages.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he moved behind her to get eggs and butter from the fridge, his torso grazing her back. It must be the goddamn hormones.

Butter sizzled as she cracked the eggs into the small saucepan and set it on the stove. She smiled at the scent of hot butter.

Archer broke the silence as he cooked the sausages. "Did Cooper call just now?"

"Yeah," she replied stiffly. She fished for the button mushrooms in the bottom drawer of the fridge. She toed the drawer shut and glanced at him to find him staring. "What?"

"Just wondering if my _attorney_ wanted to talk to me," he smiled, seemingly amused by her snappiness.

"Possibly," she said noncommittally, reaching for the chopping board and a small knife.

Archer gave her a quizzical look, but didn't say anything else. She started slicing the mushrooms.

"I asked Cooper why he took the case."

The knife hovered uncertainly for a second, but then resumed its downward course. Alex stared hard at the off-white mushrooms and kept her mouth shut.

"He said something about 'vested interests'."

She was slightly relieved. Trust Ben to make up some bullshit to avoid uncomfortable questions.

She snorted. "Really? What kind of vested interests was he talking about?"

Archer shifted his feet, and she stopped to peer at him from the corner of her eye. He looked slightly nervous.

"He said it was you."

Alex's hand slipped and she nearly took off her own finger. Hands shaking, she pretended to be unperturbed and went on with her chore.

"Alex."

She ignored him.

"Alex."

She only stopped when his hand took hold of her left wrist.

"What did he mean by that, Alex?"

She wouldn't answer him. She couldn't.

Sighing, he turned off the gas and gently hooked a finger under her chin, turning her head to face him.

"Alex, look at me."

She couldn't, fuck it.

"Are you ignoring me now?"

She pushed his hand away and spun around, then attempted to make a run for it. But he was quicker, and before she knew it he'd twisted her around and she was caught in his hard stare.

"Let me go," she said, gritting her teeth.

Archer shook his head. "Not till you tell me what's going on. You can't keep me in the dark, Alex. What 'vested interests' was Cooper talking about?"

She felt stupid, so, so stupid. It was even worse when he was here, his hands gripping her wrists, looking so expectantly at her. Then he had to go and say in that sincere, guilty voice of his.

"If he's talking about money, I swear Alex, I'll pay you back when I get my share-"

Something in her snapped. Money. Paying her back. Of course, she was a benefactor, a patron. That was it. She really should have started getting used to the idea.

She roughly shook him off and snapped, "Stop it! I told you, I don't fucking want your money!"

Archer looked slightly alarmed at her outburst, then he scowled. "Then tell me what he was talking about!"

"It doesn't concern you," she snarled.

He wasn't going to be shaken off that easily. "It does, I have a right to know! Is it so bad that you can't tell me?"

Was it so bad? Fuck yes. It was bad. It was disastrous.

Alex opened her mouth to ask him not to be angry, but she snapped it shut. Why would he be angry? He wouldn't give a shit. Damnit, she wanted to cry again. And now he had to go and look all worried.

"I'm getting married," she blurted out.

He didn't say anything for a long, long time. So she kept her gob shut. She just stared at her toes and hoped that somehow she could disappear. Then she started wishing he _would_ say something because he just stood there.

When he spoke, the scorn and disgust was more than obvious in his voice.

"To Ben _Cooper_?"

She felt it then. Shame. Embarrassment. Guilt.

Biting her lips, she nodded.

Her hands fell to her sides when he abruptly let go. She didn't dare look up, she didn't want to see his face.

She did anyway when he yelled, "Are you fucking _insane_? You hate him!"

He was angry. Good, he was angry. Actually, he was furious. She hadn't seen him that angry since she caught her stealing in the tent at the airstrip. His upper lip was drawn back in a snarl, his fists clenched, and he was… still shouting at her.

"I don't get this," he told her with a humourless bark of laughter. "So you're paying him by marrying him?"

"Yeah."

That single word seemed to feed fuel to the fire. Not that she meant to sound so nonchalant.

Archer looked at her unbelievingly. "Yeah? Wow, that's wonderful news, darling. Glad to know that you're willing to throw your life away to save mine. I'm _touched_, really."

Alex glared at him, her mouth kicking into action, yelling angrily, "Well I'm so fucking sorry for trying to help! I thought you'd need it!"

He wheeled around, and proceeded to prowl the living room, a murderous scowl on his face. See? Real life sucked. Big time.

"You know, a thank you would be nice right now," she bit out sarcastically.

He ignored her and prowled some more.

She huffed. "He's your only chance, Archer-"

"Why do you care?"

Alex folded her arms and scoffed, "Is that a trick question?"

Archer traced his footsteps to stand in front of her again. "Why do you care if I go free or not?"

"I'm your friend, Archer."

He shook his head. "Not good enough."

Christ, now he was staring down at her with those blue eyes of his, as if he was trying to bully the truth out of her. But the truth terrified her, and she knew him well enough that he would push her away if she ever said it. So she lied.

"I want to help you," she said lamely.

Archer's lips curled into a harsh smile. He stepped closer to her and bent down slightly, so that he was talking right into her face.

"I told you before, Miss Devereaux," he hissed, his voice so cold that he sounded like a completely different man. "We are very similar people. We don't do something unless we get something out of it."

She flinched and tried to shrink back, but one hand shot out and steely fingers curled round her wrist, holding her in place. She didn't want to hear this, she didn't _need_ to hear this.

"So tell me, Alexis-"

"Shut up!" she shrieked, squeezing her eyes shut.

He went on mercilessly. "What do you think you'll get out of this? Hmm? That maybe, somehow, I'll return your _feelings_? Maybe I'll forget about Maddy and follow you around like some _lovesick_ idiot?"

Oh God. That hurt. It hurt like a slap to the face.

"Let me go!" she screamed, thrashing to get away from Archer and his very cold eyes.

And suddenly, he was kissing her. She was crying, and his hands were in her hair; she was trying to catch her breath, and he had moaned as he swiped his tongue across the cavern of her mouth. Then he'd pulled away, breathing heavily, malice lacing his every word as he snarled, "Is that payment enough for your _kindness_?"

She slapped him then. She drew her hand back and slapped him with all she got.

"I hope that hurt, asshole," she hissed.

He gave her a grim grin, and drawled, "Don't worry darlin', it hurt like a bitch."

Without another word, he stormed across the room and was out of the apartment, slamming the heavy oak door behind him. Alex stood for a long while in the middle of the living room. Her hand still tingled from the slap.

Archer was right. It hurt like a bitch.

* * *

It's late, I should be in bed, and I should've edited this before I posted this. However, I think I've kept everyone waiting for long enough, and you deserve this update. It's very raw, I'm still reeling from typing up the last part. Thank you for the wonderful reviews, I hope you enjoyed this one!


	13. Boys In The Band

Chapter 13: Boys In The Band

He was confused. Fuck it, he didn't _understand_. What the fuck went on in that head of hers?

His hands linked at the back of his neck, before sliding over the top of his head and flinging downwards in a huff of frustration.

Why? _Whywhywhywhywhy?_ Why would she do something like that?

And for _him_?

Sod it all. He needed a cigarette. And then some vodka. Lots of vodka. He needed to get trashed. Maybe then he'd get his head round this twisted logic of hers.

Where in London did one get thoroughly drunk at four in the afternoon?

He smiled bitterly to himself. Where else better than some seedy bar in weird and wonderful Camden?

* * *

The pub was empty when Archer pushed through the doors, except for the bartender polishing glasses at the bar. The place reeked of cigarettes and sweat and God-knows-what. But it was cheap. He made himself comfortable on a rather unsteady stool at the far side of the bar.

The balding, stocky bartender said, "Wanna sit down here in the middle, mate? Would save me a lot of walking back and forth."

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" replied Archer wearily, turning to lean back against the wall.

To his surprise, the man chuckled. "Bad day, eh?"

Archer sighed heavily. That would be an understatement. He nodded towards the impressive array of alcohol behind the bartender. "Give me something strong, will ya?"

"Comin' right up, sir. Want to watch some footie while you wait?"

He shook his head no. The last thing he needed was some idiotic football game disturbing his peace of mind. Or whatever was left of it.

"Alright, here you go, mate." A dull thump of glass on wood. "A few more of those and you're good to go."

The damned glass was sticky, but Archer ignored it and took a big gulp. He couldn't help wincing. It was absolutely disgusting, and he deserved it.

"Cheers," deadpanned Archer, and knocking his head back, drained the whole bloody glass, down to the last bitter drop of the amber liquid. "What the fuck is this?"

The bartender grinned and scooped away the empty glass. "Trust me, bro, you don't wanna know. Another one on the house?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Archer watched him mix the drink from stinging eyes. The stuff was _strong_. But he'd laid off drinking for a while, except for beer and some wine, since Alex didn't exactly encourage binge drinking. He'd needed the sobriety around her too.

The glass appeared under his nose again. Moodily, he swirled the drink around until it sloshed and wet his fingers. He took a mighty swig, and nearly coughed at the taste.

"It's terrible," he told the bartender.

"I know, but it helps," said the bartender sagely. "Wanna talk about it?"

Did he want to talk about it?

Archer shrugged. "D'ya wanna know?"

He mirrored his shrug. "It usually helps to talk, you know."

Did it really? Maybe he should have made more of an effort at talking to her then.

_Huh_. He laughed bitterly to himself. Yeah, they seemed like the communicative type. Not. But having seen how things turned out, maybe they should have talked more. Maybe he should have told her how she really shouldn't look at him like that, because it made him want to look back the same way. Should've told her not to fall asleep on the couch every Friday night when she tried to stay up for some Italian art documentary. He had to carry her to bed and she'd cling onto him like she didn't want to let go. Thing was he didn't either.

"She shouldn't wear those fuckin' tiny shorts when I'm around," he complained aloud, half to himself.

Archer was rather peeved by the bartender's snicker. "Ever told her that?"

"'Course not, you out of your mind?" scoffed Archer, then made quick work of finishing the drink. They didn't talk about things like that. They were _friends_. Even though she didn't want them to be just friends. But she was too young, he was too jaded, blah blah. There was something else too…

Oh, yes, Maddy.

"She your gal?"

The alcohol was going to his head. "What?"

"I said is Maddy your gal?"

He didn't realise he said that out loud.

"No. She's… I dunno what she is," said Archer, with unexpected honesty. "You see, it's complicated."

The bartender gave him another glass. "Trust me, it always is. Just got divorced from my wife, so I'd know."

"Sorry 'bout that."

"Me too. We just don't get along no more," he said with a shrug. "We've been married for eleven years, you know."

Archer took a sip. "Wow. Impressive."

They hadn't even been together eleven months.

"How long you've been with your girlfriend?"

"She's no girlfriend," answered Archer, a bit sullenly. "I just live with her."

The bartender arched an eyebrow. "Complicated, eh?"

Archer nodded. Damn well it was. And now that he'd gone and insulted her, he was pretty sure he didn't live with her anymore.

He kissed her too. None too nicely, just him, taking and taking because he was so goddamn pissed off.

Oh, and he'd made her cry. A remarkable achievement. Alex never, ever cried. He hurt her real bad this time.

"I really fucked up," he grunted. "I'm fucked up."

He _told_ her he was a fucked up person- he was sure he did- he told her so that she'd stay away. But she didn't. Clung to him like some sodding koala to a gum tree instead. So he tried to become a better person 'cause- well, he didn't want to hurt her. Couldn't stand it. He didn't run when he wanted to, run away to get his diamond and just leave her, because he knew she needed him. _Him_, a bad, bad man. Nobody ever needed him, unless they wanted to smuggle some stone out of Sierra Leone, that or they needed guns.

Fuck, no. She just needed him because she was _lonely_. That sharp tongue and real nasty sarcasm kept most people away, he supposed. So he stayed. He stayed and played mum when he should have taken off before it all went pear-shaped.

Worst thing? She didn't want him to play mum. She wanted more. He would have given her more, the old, bad Archer. He would've gone and made her his, because fuck it, he wanted her too. Yeah, despite all the "she's too young" and "she deserves better" bullshit. She made him happy. She understood his sense of humour- hell, she understood _him_, period. She knew when to leave him alone when he needed some time to himself. She was always yelling at him, but was sensitive enough to know not to go too far.

Well, okay, not always. When she did go too far, they fought. But he could never stay angry with her for long.

So there. But he was the better Archer now. This Archer looked ahead, he didn't live for the day anymore. This Archer knew that one day, he would be gone, _had_ to be. He would be on the run again. He'd stayed in one place for too long, and a couple of weeks ago he would have thought that he could stay longer. But now that the authorities knew where he was, old friends and foes would know soon enough. It wasn't safe, not for Alex.

Which was why this Archer kept Alex at arm's length in the first place. No good ever came out of him. So he hid behind the façade of his little infatuation with Maddy to keep her from come any nearer. That was the plan. Well, a fine plan that was. Look where it got them now.

He had to do it though. He had to push her away, so nasty Archer reared his head. Lashed out at her, laughed at her for thinking she could help him still. By becoming Mrs. fucking Cooper. Couldn't she tell he wasn't worth the fucking effort? Really, nobody could ever make him feel guilty. Maddy did, a little, but Alex? She practically spoon-fed him with guilt.

But, really- who was he to judge? Ben Cooper was a much better person than he was. By _miles_. He might be a pansy ass, but he was successful, good-looking and rich. Fucking loaded. If she couldn't love him, at least he could afford to give her a good life. One she deserved.

Arched brought the glass up, but was disappointed to find it empty.

He looked up to find the bartender staring thoughtfully at him.

Fuck. "Did I just say evr'thin' out loud?" he slurred, feeling exceedingly stupid.

He nodded. "One question, mate- why haven't you told all this to your lady already?"

* * *

Alex shrunk into her leather jacket and tried to look inconspicuous, a lit cigarette dangling from her right hand, her left arm crossed defensively across her chest. She tried not to gawk at a guy who just walked past, sporting a rainbow mohawk like it was, well, _normal_.

After the waterworks stopped and when she decided that she had wallowed in self-pity for long enough, the fact that she had a date that night suddenly sprang to mind. It took a while to clean up and more than eyeliner to cover up her puffy eyes, but by the time she made it out of the door she looked fairly presentable. She had taken Seth's advice and wore comfortable jeans and Chuck's, a far cry from what her everyday attire.

Still, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Like a Sloane Square girl in the middle of Camden. All similarity with the surrounding demographic ended with the leather jacket and the cigarette.

Oh well. She was used to this. Being different. Not fitting in. She hadn't fitted in to anything since fourth grade after all. Maybe that was why she connected with Archer. He was a misfit too. A white boy in Africa. His own people looked at him and saw a foreigner. Caucasians heard him talk and didn't know where to place him.

They were a match made in heaven, really. Too bad he didn't want her.

A dodgy-looking guy strayed a bit too close and she smelled marijuana on him. Wrinkling her nose, she checked the time and frowned. It was already ten past nine. Where was-

"Boo!"

She shrieked and clutched her bag to her chest in a sort of defence reflex, eyes wide as saucers. he let out a puff of air and dropped her hands when she realised she knew the man now laughing teasingly at her.

Seth shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets and flashed her a disarming grin, "Relax, it's just me."

She wasn't quite sure what came over her. It must have been that beautiful, genuine smile, because the next thing she knew she'd launched herself at him- arms tight around his neck, her face buried in his chest.

She felt a hand come up to cup the back of her head, while the other rested comfortingly on her back. To his credit, he only sounded slightly thrown by her assault as he soothed, "Whoa, whoa, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

God, this was embarrassing. He actually sounded concerned. He smelt really good too, warm and solid. And he was here.

Unlike Archer.

She was tearing up then. Fuck him, seriously, fuck him.

"Alex?" asked Seth gently. He must have felt her tears through his thin t-shirt.

She pulled back, a teary mess, and wiped her eyes carefully, half a mind lamenting the fact that her mascara was running and her eyeliner was probably half gone.

"I'm really sorry," she sniffed, eyes on her shoes as she felt a blush creep into her cheeks. "It's just… I've been through a lot of shit these couple of days."

She nearly jumped when he brought his hand up to tuck her bangs behind her ear. "Hey, I'm here if you wanna talk about it, okay?"

She looked up at him then. A guy who wasn't scared shitless by crying girls? What a gem.

"Alex?"

She nodded then, and she couldn't help a broken laugh when he whipped out a hankie from his shirt pocket.

He grinned at that and faked a defensive tone, saying, "What? Gentlemen always have a 'kerchief handy. C'mere, I'll clean you up. If you don't mind, that is. I know how fussy girls are about their makeup."

Alex smiled and shook her head. He tilted her head up and, with a serious face, began dabbing around her eyes and down her cheeks. A chuckle slipped past her lips as she watched him.

"What?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

She gave him a wobbly smile. "It's just really sweet of you. Thank you."

Seth arched an eyebrow, and Alex just noticed his eyes were a beautiful green. "Did you hit your head or something? Why aren't you snapping at me?" he teased.

"Give me a beer or two and I will," she replied.

He winked. "I know just the place then."

* * *

"This place is disgusting."

Her face softened with a small smile when Seth laughed at her remark. He grinned down at her- he was actually quite tall now that she was in flat shoes- and she felt him put one hand on the small of her back, gently pushing her towards the bar.

"This is Camden, darling," he jokingly chided her. "We do it cheap and dirty."

Her smile faltered somewhat at the "darling", but she kept up the snobbish front and wrinkled her nose. "Ever heard of the concept of hygiene?"

"Nope, the only concept is sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll, baby!" declared Seth, doing something that could only be described as a macho dance move. "C'mon, I'll introduce you to Neil. Best barkeep in these parts of town."

Alex had to crane her neck to spot the baldie behind the bar across the pub, crammed to the brim with weekend party-goers. She said sarcastically, "Yeah, definitely looks like some big-shot bartender to me."

"Have some faith, sweetheart," returned Seth smoothly. "He'll prove you wrong."

Seth moved to walk behind her as the crowds thickened, one hand on the small of her back. They wove in and out of groups of people drinking and shouting to each other over the speakers blasting out rock classics, which got louder as they moved into the thick of the action.

Throngs of people hung about the dark mahogany bar, but Seth managed to squeeze in between a girl with a fearsome full-sleeve tattoo and a scrawny Hells Angels wannabe. He ushered her to join him, and when she was comfortably nestled in next to him, he asked, "So, what's your poison?"

"A beer," replied Alex, propping an elbow on the counter only to snatch it back as it was wet and sticky. "And then some."

Seth ran a hand through his tousled hair with a nod. "Is Guiness ok?"

"Wonderful," smiled Alex.

Seth bowed his head and said, "Comin' right up, ma'am." He looked somewhere behind her and yelled, impressively loudly, "Hey Neil! I can do with a drink down here, man!"

Alex turned and watched, slightly amused, as the bartender gave Seth the middle finger without even turning around.

"Full marks for courtesy," joked Alex.

Seth grinned. "Yeah, that's his way of treating his most loyal customers."

It didn't take Neil long to stop by to take their orders. He exchanged greetings and manly thumps on the back with Seth, and grinned good-naturedly at her. "And who is this pretty lady?"

"This is Alex, and this is Neil," said Seth in ways of introduction. "Who will be treating us to some good ol' Guiness before the night is through."

Neil stuck his hand out and Alex shook it. "Pleasure, ma'am. A Guiness coming right up on the house, but you're paying for yours, son!"

"What?!" exclaimed Seth in mock outrage. "But I told Alex here that you're the coolest barkeep in Camden! Can't go back on my word now, can I?"

Neil had a good laugh at that as he filled up two pints for them. "Good boys shouldn't lie, son. So, Miss Alex, you well acquainted with Camden Town?"

"Not really, I prefer cleaner places," she replied dourly. Then she grimaced when she realised hadn't done this polite chit-chat for a while… and what she just said wasn't exactly polite.

Shit, she was really bad at this civil conversation thing, wasn't she?

To her surprise, Neil laughed and shook it off easily, and presented to them their overflowing pints of beer. "A lady with spunk- surely you can do better than an amateur rock band guitarist."

Alex arched an eyebrow at that and peered at Seth dubiously. "What, you're in a rock band?"

He shrugged and took a sip of his Guiness. "Would it have made a difference?"

"Well, for starters, it would have made you much more attractive," she answered, smiling at him with her eyes as she brought the beer to her lips.

Neil chuckled and mockingly punched Seth in the chest. "Pow! You just got owned, son. You keep him on his toes, sweetie, he needs to be taken down a peg or two sometimes."

Seth snorted and made a face, and with a shake of his head, called after Neil as he bustled away, "Fuck off, man! Go recycle your beer bottles or something."

Before Alex could stop herself a giggle had escaped at the easy banter between the two. She gave Seth a wide-eyed look as he narrowed his eyes at her. "What? You two were bickering like a married couple."

"Rock stars don't do marriage," joked Seth with a wink.

"So, tell me about your band."

Seth started on what sounded like a well-rehearsed speech, drawling, "We're the lovechild of Nirvana and Whitesnake, with the vocal flexibility of Faith No More, the fuck-all attitude of AC/DC and soulful lyricism of… I dunno, Oasis?"

She nearly choked on her beer. "Damn, if only you've left out the last bit, I would have been impressed. But no, seriously."

"Seriously? We're just a bunch of guys who want to make some noise," said Seth with a nonchalant shrug, then added cheekily. "And bagging some hot girls in the process, since women like boys who play music."

Alex rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "I wonder _what_ gave you the idea."

"Personal experience," said Seth, roguishly. He glanced at her nearly empty glass. "Can I get you another one?"

"Sure."

Seth patted her hand and took both of their glasses. "Stay here, I'll go sneak in and get us a refill."

Alex leaned back against the counter and savoured the slight buzz the beer gave her as she glanced around her. Scrawny wannabe Hells Angel had disappeared but tattoo girl was still there, talking somberly with another girl. Uproarious laughter came from one of the circles of friends standing around small, high tables, while others were more subdued. She absent-mindedly nodded her head to a Rolling Stones classic currently on play, listening to snippets of conversation and watching bits of action.

Then she heard it, a voice too familiar, slightly slurred, somewhere to her left. She wheeled around sharply, and fuck, there he was. Practically climbing over some man in his way as he shouted and waved his arms to get Neil's attention. And well, someone was climbing him too, a scantily dressed petite blonde leaning on his back, arms around his waist.

Wow, good to know that Archer didn't have any qualms about picking up random sluts while pining after a certain Maddy Bowen and at the same time breaking a certain Alex Devereaux's heart.

First-class bastard. He could burn in hell for all she cared.

* * *

I don't want to end the chapter in such an awkward place, but in between packing and more packing, I don't have time to write more, and the chapter has run on for too long. I'm going off to university! YAY! Before that I'm going on a 10-day holiday, so unfortunately, I'll be too busy touring to find time to update Red Earth. Please forgive me if a rather lengthy gap in between updates follows… know that I am just as anxious to know what Alex and Archer will do next! Cheers for the kind reviews, everyone, the next update will quite a read… I'll promise you as much. Wishing you all a happy back-to-school!

EDIT: I didn't realise the dividers don't show up- I'm very sorry if this has impeded your reading somehow, I'll have to go back and fix the previous chapters!

EDIT 2: I apologise, but I was re-reading this chapter and found some grammatical mistakes. All corrected.


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